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BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


OR, 


WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


A NOVEL. 


BY ; I J 

Jane Valentine. 

Author of 

“ Times Scythe,” “ Jonas Brand,” Etc. 



NEW YORK: 

G. W, Dillingham Co., Publishers, 

MDCCCC. 

f 



TWO COPIES fiScjEIVEO. 

Ofnoe 0 f tiif 

MAR 2 8 1900 

B**Itt*r of Copyrlgbft^ 






Copyright, 1900, by 
G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY. 
\AU rights reserved,] 

57088 


Beverly Osgood, 




SECOND DOPY, 


va. 

•J <XA<fc» \ ^ 

N'i • •• 


CONTENTS 


BOOK I. 


Chapter Pagb 

I. A Tenement House Near the East River . 7 

IL Nina Palermo 12 

III. Roscoe Delano 22 

IV. The Flight 32 

V. She Stood Looking Up at the Door of the 

Great Dark House 39 

VI. Anlace 49 

VI 1 . The Dinner and Other Guests . . .63 

VIII. A Morning With Clarise . . . .80 

IX. The Ball at Anlace 93 

X. The Break of Day iii 


BOOK II. 


I. The Summer of 1896 114 

II. After Four Years, I Find Myself One Evening 

With Gene and His Mother . . .133 

III. All the Indignant Jealous Anger of the Man 

In Me Rose up Against Her. . . .148 

IV. I Stand Before Her With Bowed Head . . 165 

V. He Will Bless You Then as He Folds You To 

His Breast 182 


[5] 


6 


CONTENTS. 


Chaptbr Page 

VI. Some Living Pictures from the Old Prison 

Tombs 195 

VII Margaret Devereaux — At Home . . .219 
VIII. Omphale 237 

BOOK III. 

1 . And I Whisper Back, ** He that Belie veth in 
Me, the Works that T Do Shall He Do 
Also.** ....... 250 

II. Nina, Countess Palermo, At Home . . . 263 

HI. Seek Forgetfulness in the Light of the New . 280 

IV. The Trial 299 

V. I Have Avenged You and Avenged Myself . 318 

VI. Dearest, Dearest, I Love You . . , -325 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 

OR, 

WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


BOOK I. 

CHAPTER I. 

A TENEMENT HOUSE NEAR THE EAST RIVER. 

It was in the early summer of 1892 that I, Beverly 
Osgood, left my home in a beautiful western city, which lies 
upon the banks of the Mississippi, to spend a few months 
in New York, but more especially to visit a college friend 
at his country seat, “Anlace.” It was not my first visit to 
New York City. Indeed, from a boy fourteen years old, 
I accompanied my uncle, who was a bachelor, and a 
wealthy merchant, upon annual trips to the great Metrop- 
olis, where he went to buy goods, and make a tour 
of all the surrounding eastern cities and resorts. I also, 
while at Cambridge, made many a flying run to the big 
town. 

From the time I could remember, my mother, who was 
a widow and my uncle’s only sister, lived with him, my 
father having died when I was a babe. We resided in a 
large double roomy house in the west end, presided over 
by my mother, and a middle aged mulatto woman, for- 
merly a maid of mother’s before her marriage to my 
father, and my nurse from the moment my eyes opened 
in wonder to the light of this strange world. At the age 
of twelve my mother died, leaving me to the care of my 
uncle, and aunt Lucy, who tried to take her place in 

[7] 


8 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


regard to her son, by watching over my material and spir- 
itual welfare. The dear old soul loved and petted me, 
and I cherished for her a sincere and deep affection, but 
I fear I often sorely tried her by doing everything but 
what her idea of a correct obedient boy ought to do. 

My uncle at that time was in his forty-fifth year, and 
must have given up all notion of taking unto himself a 
wife. I had hoped he would marry after mother’s death, 
as the big house was so lonesome. In the drawing-room, 
library, uncle’s room, and my own, everywhere, I missed 
my mother’s sweet face, and more especially at the table. 

On afternoons when the sun drooped towards the west, 
I was called in from play, and after my battle with Lucy 
over the bath, and the general set-to, which followed, 
for Lucy was vigorous and backed up by my mother, I 
was held with a firm hand, while face, neck and ears, came 
in for a good lather of soap, and after a douse and a 
rinsing, I issued forth with shining face, brushed hair, 
clean hands, clean linen, and my best suit, ready for uncle 
and dinner. 

But some way mother, who had already made her own 
toilet, managed to have an hour or more before uncle’s 
arrival and dinner, when she would seat herself by the 
window, with a book of short stories, or her New Testa 
ment, from which she would read a chapter, while I sat 
buried in a big armchair beside her, with my round brown 
head leaning against its back, one long slim leg, covered 
with a black stocking meeting my knee breeches, thrown 
over an arm of the chair. In this position, with open 
mouth, open eyes, brain active and wide awake, I drank 
in all she read and said. How her voice so deep and 
soft, as it rose and fell, comes back to me now, like the 
strains of some loved melody, kept sacredly locked away 
in the heart. And when she would raise her blue eyes, 
moist with tears, from the page, to where I was seated 
so still, and find me intent and absorbed in what she was 
reading, she would continue until finished. Then she 
would lay the book down, and a little explanatory chat, 
which was the most interesting to me, would fill in the 
time until uncle came and dinner followed. 

These are the dearest and sweetest memories I know, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE, 


9 


and are as fresh and green at this writing, as in the days 
of my boyhood they came and went in sequence, at that 
happy evening hour. And when I returned from college, 
I went back to the first twelve years of my life, and the 
lessons then learned at my mother’s side, I adopted and 
founded the habits, which have resulted in the pursuits 
of my older manhood. However as this is not a history 
of myself, but of others, and the scenes and happenings 
of a great city, I shall be brief. 

My uncle and myself were great chums ; there was a 
comradeship between us which seldom exists between 
father and son, yet I loved him as a father, and no father 
could show more love for an only son, than he did for me, 
He gave me every advantage that money could give, 
sparing nothing on my education. At the age of seven- 
teen I graduated from our public high school, and a year 
later I went to Cambridge to college, where I spent four 
years, and graduated there with due honors. After spend- 
ing several weeks with my four years’ friend and college 
mate, at his country home “ Anlace,” I returned to my own 
home and my native city in the southwest. 

My uncle left me to my choice of either becoming a 
business man, or following a profession. At Cambridge 
I studied law, and for a while went into the office of my 
uncle’s attorney, an elderly man, and a most eminent 
lawyer. But I soon tired of the dry routine, my nature 
and it were out of harmony, I began to feel parched, 
and what little feeling and sentiment I had in my bones, 
seemed to ooze out the longer I prolonged my stay. I 
soon found myself drifting into journalism, writing and 
reporting for the papers; that is, I played at it for a while 
before settling down to serious work. Before starting 
on my journey, I thought and planned much about how 
I would spend my time in New York City, before show- 
ing up at Anlace, as I did not intend to give Bertram 
Arlington but a month at most of my time. 

I had made up my mind to see life in the great Me- 
tropolis in a different way than Bertram had planned for 
me ; to see it in all its phases, from the life of the hard 
working honest poor, to poverty in all its depths and 
makeshifts, its haunts of sin and crime, to the opulent 


10 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


and plethoric rich. In the world, and more especially in 
large cities, the evil and good walk side by side, alld now 
more than ever in onr modem life. The lodging of the 
poor honest man, is next door to the criminal, the fur- 
nished room of the honest toiling girl is under the same 
roof with the courtesan, and the woman whose livelihood 
is the pave. 

It was morning when I arrived in New York, the month 
early June, too early for the people to seek the country, 
excepting the very wealthy who go to their country seats, 
with the coming of the first bluebird. I put up at one 
of the down-town hotels, where I breakfasted. After 
breakfast I started out for a stroll; the day was bright 
with sunshine, which added a brilliance to the northern 
climate which impressed me at first unpleasantly, coming 
as I did from the soft hazy atmosphere of the southwest. 
The streets were crowded with people, hurrying and 
scurrpng, edging and elbowing each other as if their very 
life depended upon reaching their destination at a given 
time. The elevated steam cars on sixth, third, and ninth 
avenues, thundered up and down, over the heads of the 
crowd, while the cable and electric cars, tingled and lin- 
gled their bells, as they rode swiftly over the rails. Fine 
equipages with liveried drivers dashed along Broadway 
and Fifth Avenue, while others stood with restive horses ; 
in front of fashionable shops, waiting for fashionable ladies. 
In all this hithering, skithering, satin and silk, velvet and 
lace-clad surging throng, the ragged and the beggar, were 
not wanting ; neither was the tramp, the criminal, the whis- 
key soaked, and whiskey wrecked, man and woman. 

I had rambled about for some time, when the first 
thing I knew I found myself in the vicinity of Twenty- 
third Street near the East river. I had been here on pre- 
vious occasions, but not with the same purpose which 
now filled my mind, although it was in a vague and desul- 
tory way my feet strayed here. I walked up to Twenty- 
fourth Street, and turned on Twenty-fourth towards Sec- 
ond Avenue. The neighborhood hereabout is crowded 
with large tenement houses. In passingone of these work- 
ing men’s hotels,of a grade much better than where the 
very poor live,my eye was attracted by a placard on one side 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


il 


of the door of the ground floor flat, “ A fnrnished parlor 
and bedroom to rent.” I shall not give the exact loca- 
tion, suffice it to say, that it is near Second Avenue, and 
the East river, and not far from the Glen Island stea- 
mer landing. 

With the passion inherent and strong in me then as 
now, to see the world of men and women, and study hu- 
manity in all its conditions, I stopped and went into the 
hall door, which was in the center of the building, and 
touched the electric bell to my left. It was answered by 
a woman a little over forty years of age. She was below 
medium height, her figure stout, she had dark reddish 
hair, and a round wholesome face, lighted by bright pleas- 
ant blue eyes, and was clad in a house dress, of some 
dark cheap material, set off by a long white apron. She 
scanned me closely, with a certain defiant air of inquiry 
and suspicion, which seems to be characteristic of all 
classes in the great Babylon by the sea. 

When I told her my errand, she invited me into the 
little parlor. It was clean and comfortably furnished, 
and had the usual small bedroom attached, what in the 
west we call an alcove, for it is nothing more or less, as 
only a bed and a washstand can find place in it. After 
a few desultory remarks, the price and so forth, I en- 
gaged the apartments. I informed Mrs. Lunis, for such 
was the name she gave me, that I was from the West, 
that I would be in New York for some weeks, and I 
would like her if convenient, to furnish me with break- 
fast. At first she did not like the idea. “Ah, sir,” she 
said, “ I have not wherewith to properly prepare meals 
for a fine gentleman like you.” But I soon overcame 
her objections, and she agreed to serve me dejeuner 
every morning in the little parlor. 

I left her, took an elevated train down-town to the 
hotel, ordered a carriage, and about half -past five I was 
driven bag and baggage, to Mrs. Lunis’s flat, and took 
possession of my suite of rooms (closets, I should say). 
They were the smallest rooms I ever dwelt in. Mrs. 
Lunis made herself busy arranging my things, and in the 
general conversation which followed, I learned from her 
that she was a widow, with one son, whose name was 


12 


BEVERLY OSGOOD { 


Eugene, twenty-two years of age. A few months before, 
I myself had stepped upon the threshold of my twenty- 
sixth year. Gene, as she called him, had just finished his 
apprenticeship at the carpenter’s trade, and was now re- 
ceiving full pay. I asked her if her son was all the family 
she had. She was standing by the window arranging the 
lace curtains. I saw that she started at my question, and 
let the curtain she held in her hand drop, then she turned 
quickly around, her blue eyes flashed one glance at me, 
which spoke volumes, then she turned to the window 
again and began tying back the lace curtain with a ribbon. 
After a pause she remarked in an off-hand general way, 
which no nationality possesses to such a degree as the 
Irish or the Irish American, “ Now sir, make yourself at 
home, an’ comfortable, an’ if you haven’t all you need to 
make your quarters pleasant, let me know an’ I will do 
what I can to please you, that is if your requirements isn’t 
beyond my limited purse. We’re poor people in this part 
of the city sir.” 

And with that same questioning and puzzled look, and 
eyes which flashed again into mine, she left the room, 
and closed the door softly after her. In that glance her 
eyes asked, who are you, and what are you ? And what 
object has a young man of your station in life, a gentle- 
man, renting lodgings in this poor neighborhood. 


CHAPTER II. 

NINA PALERMO. 

I had been three weeks at my lodgings, and my acquain- 
tance with Mrs. Lunis had so much improved, that the 
suspicion with which she at first regarded me, a suspicion 
and fear of something, which her experience of life had 
taught her, had vanished, and she began to regard me 
with something of the kind motherly feeling she showed 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


to her son, Gene. She was an excellent cook, her coffee 
was delicious, and her home-made rolls equal in lightness 
and color to aunt Lucy’s at home. These were varied 
at times by light creamy biscuits, and my beefsteak was 
done to a turn. This inviting repast was placed in the 
morning upon my parlor table, with a cloth and napkins 
like snow, and a china plate, cup and saucer, that Mrs 
Lunis purchased expressly for me. So she informed 
me one morning as she poured out my coffee, and added 
with a sly bright twinkle in her eye, “ Gene says they were 
bought for mother’s Count, incognito.” 

I had met Gene, on two or three occasions: the first 
time, his mother called him into my room to help to move 
some trunks, then again one evening, at the door, where 
I had a long chat with him, about New York City. I found 
that he knew New York, from its center to its circum- 
ference, and was born and reared in the very neighbor- 
hood he now dwelt in. He was the counterpart of his 
mother, but an improvement. He had the same dark red- 
dish hair, the same complexion, and clear keen blue eyes. 
But while his mother was short, round and stout. Gene 
was tall and straight of limb, but with all the angularities 
of youth. He dressed cleanly and smartly, and when clad 
in his best Sunday clothes, was without polish, a comely 
specimen of young manhood. He informed me that he 
did all the fine interior carpenter work of houses. 

On several occasions before rising in the morning, and 
of evenings also, I heard in the room which led off my 
bedroom, the voice of a young girl. The voice was low, 
soft, and full of varied tones, like the different keys of a 
musical instrument when touched by skilled fingers. Then 
again I would hear her laugh ripple out at some utterance 
of a coarser and more masculine voice, which I took to 
be Gene’s. 

One evening after spending the day at the most beauti- 
ful, to me, of all New York’s summer resorts, Glen Isl- 
and, and winding up with a good dinner there, I came 
back feeling a little tired and was seated by the open win- 
dow, with the blinds and shutters so arranged that I could 
see and not be seen by those passing by on the street. I 
had been heme about thirty minutes, and reclined com- 


u 


BfeVERLY OSGOOD * 


fortably in a willow armchair, with my feet perched up 
on the back of another, smoking a cigar. It was at that 
time in the evening, when the shadows begin to lengthen, 
and the gold and purple rays, streaking the horizon, 
slowly fade into the gray of dusk; the hour when a lull 
and hush falls over the hustle, bustle, and traffic of the 
great city, and all New York is dining. I heard in the 
room off my little bed-room, with just a narrow hall of 
two or three feet between, and which I learned afterwards 
was the dining-room, and used as the family sitting-room, 
the low murmur of a feminine voice, mingled with ®ne 
more masculine, and which I knew belonged to Gene and 
the girl. I listened but could discern no other voice. 
Mrs. Lunis must be absent I thought, or in the kitchen. 
I rose and walked noiselessly in my slippers to the door 
of the bed-room, which led into the dining-room, and 
softly turned the key and the knob, at the same time with- 
out making the faintest sound and opened the door, about 
half the width of a hand, keeping myself well behind it. 
I could see and not be seen. 

Right in line with my eye I beheld a girl, seated upon 
one end of a sofa, which stood in the angle of the area 
windows, a girl, about nineteen or twenty years of age. 
She wore a waist of some soft white stuff, with a full 
black skirt. The white of the waist, in the dim light, 
helped to throw out her slender, but full rounded figure. 

My first view of her was profile, A sort of a gray 
reflected light from the upper part of the area window, 
fell upon her head and face, throwing them in silhouette 
against the dark background of the wall. 

I could see that she possessed unusual beauty. Her 
hair was jet black, and its braids which she wore coiled 
high upon her head, were heavy and lustrous. She had 
that clear dark skin, which is said to belong alone to the 
Celtic race, but the delicate tints of red, in the cheek, told 
she was the child of some sunny clime. The forehead 
was broad, the line of the dark brows straight, and black 
as her hair. The nose was just a little tipped, giving a 
touch retrousse, and the small mouth with its full red pout- 
ing lips half opened over rows of pearly teeth, which pro- 
jected slightly, just enough to give a dash of the sensuaL 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


15 


After a few moments she gave a sudden turn which 
showed me her full face, then I saw that her eyes were 
large, luminous, and black as sloes, with long inky lashes, 
which cast faint shadows over her cheek. She raised her 
hand to her head, to fasten the comb in her hair; it was 
white and shapely, as was also the foot that peeped* out 
from under her skirt. Gene was seated beside her. He 
was dressed for the evening, had changed his working 
clothes, and wore light gray pants, white shirt and collar, 
and a fancy neck-tie ; his boots were polished, and he was 
in his shirt sleeves. 

“Hurry up Gene, and put your coat on,” said the girl 
“ and get out of this cubby hole, into the fresh air, I have 
been cooped up in the shop all day: the shop, the shop,” 
she repeated, rising, and as she did she made a twirl round 
and round the small dining table which stood in the cen- 
ter of the room. It seems every piece of furniture, has 
to be of diminutive size for the closets they call rooms in 
these tenements, flats, in New York City. “ The shop, 
the shop, I detest it,” she reiterated, laughing as she threw 
herself back again upon the edge of the sofa. 

“ Keep up your courage. Nine, when I get to be a big 
real estate man, like the boss, the shop will be a thing 
of the past,” said Gene, rising and stretching himself. 

“ Then I shall sniff at shops, and shopkeepers, and draw 
my skirts aside, when I meet shop girls on the streets.” 
She laughed merrily, rose up, bent her body, threw back 
her head, gathered up the folds of her skirts, in her hand, 
then let them sweep back again with a swirl, and seated 
herself upon the sofa. 

“Won’t we have good times. Sis,” said Gene, taking 
two long strides to the chair, where his hat and coat lay, 
“ and if ever I catch any of those upper swelldom fellows 
ogling you as they do in society, I will draw off and let 
him have it full in the eye.” With that he thrust his arm 
into the sleeve of his coat, and stretched it out full length, 
and a fine stalwart arm and hand it was, and I would 
pity the weakling that got a rap of it over the head. 

‘ ‘ Of course you’ll carry a cane, and wear kid gloves, 
when you get to be a big real estate owner.” And again 


i6 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


the girl’s laugh rippled out like the gurgle of a brook, and 
Gene chuckled. 

“ Well, they say my boss is worth about five or six hun- 
dred thousand dollars, and he learned the trade of a car- 
penter, and began as poor as myself.” 

“ In the meantime I shall be shut up in a shop, behind 
a counter pulling down goods to shoppers, and trying to 
please them. The most awful lot of women tramps, are 
old shoppers. I often wonder if they are bom so hard 
and grasping, or if they grow into it as they grow older. 
Few of them seem to have any pity for a poor girl, stand- 
ing all day in the sweltering heat behind a counter, for 
a few dollars a week.” 

“ Come Nina, get your hat on and don’t let mother hear 
you complain like that.” 

She rose, picked up her hat from the table, placed it on 
her head and with that Mrs. Lunis came in from the 
kitchen. “ Don’t stay late Gene, you know how hard it 
is to get you children up in the morning.” 

“ We will be home in good season, mother,” said Nina 
caressingly, as she and Gene left the room, and passed 
out into the public hall. I closed my door softly, stepped 
into the parlor, sat down and hurriedly put on my shoes, 
then took from the wardrobe a thin black coat, such as a 
student might wear; it was one I kept for occasions when 
I felt in the notion to prowl around at night in my own 
city. Also a soft felt slouch hat, one I brought from 
the west with me. I was soon in the hall with my door 
locked, and the key in my pocket, and went out following 
after them. I was not likely to attract their attention, 
as the evening was lovely, and the streets crowded with 
people, passing and repassing, hither and thither, but I 
kept them well in sight. 

Eugene though but twenty-two, was a fine manly look- 
ing fellow, and had the independent air and gait of a city 
bom and bred man. Nina walked by his side with her 
shoulders thrown back, her head proudly poised, a grace 
in her carriage, seldom seen a girl, of her age and sta- 
tion, and she had the spring and elasticity of youth in 
every step. I followed on until they reached the park, 
which is upon the river bank; here they became lost for 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 7 

awhile in the crowd. Feeling tired after my day’s jaunt, I 
threw myself into a seat near the river bank, where tinder 
the brilliant electric lights, I had a good view of all the 
men, women, and children. It seemed as if all the big 
tenement houses, for blocks around, had emptied them- 
selves of their tenantry into this acre of breathing space. 

What a medley of human beings. My own city had its 
slums, alleys, and small tenement houses, but nothing 
like the vast hoards I saw here, a conglomeration of all 
nations, swarming upon this small green plat on the river 
bank. Here was to be seen the East side tough, in all 
his element of swagger, cigar, and pipe smoke, whiskey 
soaked, with sensuality marked on every feature of his 
face, and in every movement of his body. Here also was 
the crook, in all his makeshifts, with small snake eyes, 
of furtive glance, low-browed, keen sharpened features, 
tallow skin, a cigar in his mouth, and wearing good 
clothes. There also was to be seen the courtesan in the 
lower walks of life, well dressed, clothes fitting perfectly, 
large-handed, coarse-featured, a face that might be called 
handsome if not so marked with dissipation. There were 
stout women, fat women, slovenly and dowdy women, 
with children hanging to their skirts. A sprinkling of 
clean comfortable looking women, of the Mrs. Lunis type, 
with shirt waists, and Hack skirts. Young shop girls, 
factory girls, with that bold defiant air and hard expres- 
sion of face which one observes in the women here, and 
which strikes the man of thought with repugnance. 

The sight of these young girls, and older women, with 
their leering bold painted faces, the young grown old in 
cunning, craft, and sensuality, all the girl and woman 
blotted out of them, made me shiver as with ague. By 
what circumstances did they fall so low? Whose hand 
did the destructive work, I asked myself. Was it the 
foreigner sitting on the bench to my right in company 
with those two large loud-looking women, with his blue 
smock shirt, his pipe in his mouth, his whiskey breath, 
and large sensual features, a mate perhaps on some 
steamer plying the East river, or was it that young stal- 
wart hoodlum, or the old debauchee to my left,sitting with 
those three girls, one of them scarcely out of her teens ? 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


l8 

Or that big white-handed tough, with his pockets full of 
money ? — There is no answer but my own solution, as the 
crowd walks to and fro, laughing and chatting, while pale 
children whine and whimper, and tug at their mothers* 
breasts, followed by ragged, hungry, vicious children, 
their voices mingling with the harsher laughter of men 
and women. All around me was the hoarse roar of the 
city, the puff, puff, and snort of the engines, as the trains 
thundered up and down over the elevated roads. The 
ding and ling, of the cable cars, and the rattling of car- 
riages, over the stone-paved streets, all mingled together, 
until their harshness was lost upon the air, and came back 
again upon the ear, in a jingle of harmonious sounds I 
turned my eyes upon the river, which alone was placid 
and peaceful, with just a soft lip and lap, against the 
shore. On the opposite bank, the lights glittered, and 
flickered upon the surface of the water. To my left lay 
Blackwell’s Island, and farther off I could see the Ameri- 
can postal service building, where the stars and stripes, 
in the evening breeze, made one think of an eagle, in the 
dark, with its pinions outstretched, sailing under the blue 
jewelled sky. All these islands, lay in the shadow of the 
night, looking like cities built in the sea. 

I rose from my seat, and was leaving the park, when 
on the way, I met Gene and Nina, face to face “You 
here, Mr Osgood,” said Gene. “ I thought you wouldn’t 
care to come to our riverside resort. While of course it’s 
not like Central Park, or Glen Island, the people around 
here enjoy it, the women can visit, and there is a nice 
cool breeze from the river.” And Gene’s blue eyes twin- 
kled merrily. “ This is my sister, Miss Lunis Palermo.” 
Nina raised to me those great dark eyes of hers, full of 
light, innocence, and intelligence, and her face had not 
only marked beauty, but it was of a rare and pure kind. 

In the weeks of my stay with the Tunis’s, I learned 
from Mrs. Lunis, that Nina was not her own daughter, 
but an adopted child. Nina’s mother was of Irish par- 
entage, born in one of the suburban towns which sur- 
round New York City. At the age of twenty years, she 
came to the city, her father and mother having died a 
few years before.. Like many other country girls, she 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


19 


made her way to the great Metropolis, to seek employment 
and better her condition, if possible. She made her home 
for a while with Mrs. Lunis, the parents of both women 
being old friends. After a stay of several weeks, and 
failing to find what she wanted in the way of some genteel 
position, she engaged in a large fashionable restaurant 
for gentlemen and ladies. 

There was a poor Italian gentleman, an exile from his 
own sunny land, and in hard luck like herself, who came ' 
to this restaurant every day towards five o’clock, for din- 
ner. Nance O’Neil, was a proud high-minded honest girl, 
but she took particular pains to wait on the handsome 
Italian, who was about thirty-five years old, as dark as she 
was fair and comely, and had eyes like midnight. He fell 
in love with Nance O’Neil, and she with him, and one day 
they were married. Nance, said Mrs. Lunis, was a proud 
and virtuous girl, and would listen to nothing but mar- 
riage. 

After their marriage, they rented a small flat, which 
Nance made comfortable by the money she had saved. 
She was an intelligent thrifty girl, and the Count, for such 
he was, but no one knew his rank at that time, not even 
his wife, followed his profession of teaching the lan- 
guages, Spanish, French, and his own native tongue, Ital- 
ian, to private pupils. They had been married about a 
year, when a baby girl was born to them, and the father 
idolized her, for she was the very image of himself. When 
Nina was about two years old, the Count received word 
from Paris, that his father, the old Count who lived there 
in exile, had died. He was the eldest son, but the govern- 
ment had confiscated his father’s estates of which he was 
now the heir. He felt all was lost. The King was angry 
with his father, and he would never recall his son to 
his country and his home. Hope and spirit seemed to 
fail him, and with it his grip on life. 

In a few months he was taken ill unto death. The day be- 
fore he died, a large package of papers with a seal, and 
Italy’s coat-of-arms, came by mail to the Count. He opened 
and read, folded them up and handed them to his wife, say- 
ing, “ It’s too late, keep them for the child, they may be of 
use to her some day.” That was all, he made no further 


20 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


comment, the next day he passed away, and the light of 
Nance Palermo’s life went out when her noble husband’s 
eyes closed in death, for she loved him. It was one of 
those occurrences where two people of different nation- 
alities, and widely different spheres of life, are perfectly 
mated. Mrs. Lunis said he was so kind, gentle, and 
loving to her, that even the little Nina, could not rouse 
her from her grief at his loss. Nina’s mother struggled 
on for about three years, when one day, she came to Mrs. 
Lunis’s apartments, with the child. She was very ill, 
and said to her friend, that she felt she was going to die, 
and that she wanted her to take Nina, and rear her as her 
own; she would die happy then knowing she was safe 
with her. She turned over to Mrs. Lunis, all her per- 
sonal belongings, and the package of papers given her by 
her husband, and told her to keep them for Nina, until 
she was of age. Nina could then see for herself, if they 
were of importance in claiming anything of her father’s 
inheritance. After a few weeks’ illness through which 
Mrs. Lunis nursed her, the handsome Nance O’Neil, Mrs. 
Palermo, died, not knowing she was the Countess 
Palermo. 

This happened some years before Mrs. Lunis became 
a widow. Gene was then nine years old, and side by 
side, he and the little Nina grew up together as brother and 
sister, Mrs. Lunis, and her husband showing no differ- 
ence in their affection towards the two children. “ In- 
dade,” said Mrs. Lunis in her broad accent, “ Nina got 
all the petting from meself an’ husband ; even Gene, from 
a little fellow up, petted and loved her more than any 
brother.” 

I met Nina several times during my stay with the 
Lunis’s. After their tea, I would drop into the sitting- 
room, and in my free western way, have a pleasant chat, 
setting them at their ease with my simple, kindly manner. 
I found Gene a manly fellow, although belonging to the 
class whose advantages, and time for culture, are slim, 
or else they are not much concerned about the niceties, 
or what that much abused word, “culture,” means. But 
he had all the instincts of a gentleman, was honest, keen, 
and intelligent, and showed good nature towards me. He 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


21 


must have set me apart, as not one of those “ swell fel- 
lows ” I heard him mention in his chaff with his sister, 
the evening I played spy and eaves -dropper, that he was 
going to punch in the eye, if he caught any of them ogling 
her. But just the reverse, I seemed to have little by lit- 
tle, gained his confidence and respect. 

I do not claim here that I was a paragon, or blessed 
with the resistance of a Joseph, or when I came into Nina's 
presence, my heart didn’t thump at sight of her perfect 
figure, and great beauty of face, as well as wealth of mind 
still undeveloped. And to say that I was not charmed 
with her light chit chat, fascinating ways, and a certain 
saucy dash, would be to make myself out a clod, and a 
boor. 

I was not a bad looking fellow, nor was I vain enough, 
to think that Nina would have fallen in love with me, 
had I shown her any marked attention. She was full of 
life, ambitious, fond of dress and pleasure, and just at 
the age when the world is bright and fair to a girl, and 
her mind is full of dreams of great future possibilities. 
But I had not only inherited from my father, and ances- 
tors, the highest sense of honor, but had it instilled in 
me by my dear mother, from a child up, and my uncle 
who never lost an opportunity of holding up to me what 
he called a fine sense of honor. “ Cultivate a line sense 
of honor, Beverly, and you will have all the other manly 
qualities requisite.” I was bound by this sense of honor, 
not to bring trouble into this simple and honest family. 
On three occasions, I took Nina, Gene, and Mrs. Lunis, 
for a day’s outing to Glen Island, Manhattan Beach, Long 
Branch, and other resorts, and treated them to the best 
these places afforded, and before I left New York, I had 
gained the affection and esteem of this honest, obscure, 
but exceedingly interesting family. 

Gene was never tired in showing me little attentions. 
Many a night, we wandered about the city slums, until 
one and two in the morning. Gene was a native of New 
York, and knew every street of the big town, from the 
battery to One Hundred and Eightieth Street. 

I had never before met a woman like Mrs. Lunis. 
Brought up as I was in my uncle’s home, with no help 


22 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


but black servants, Mrs. Lunis, with her Irish American 
cleverness, thrift and quick intelligence, and originality 
of character, was charming to me, a delightful experience 
that I could not soon forget. Besides her delicious cook- 
ing, her motherliness completely won my heart, and Nina, 
— oh, Nina, Nina, if I could only have brushed aside the 
fate that was then pursuing you, I would have given my 
right hand, to have averted it, ah, yes, even my life, to 
have snatched you from it, but the inevitable is hidden, 
and well that it is. Even if the power were given us to 
for amoment draw aside the veil that hides the unseen, and 
the happiness of the future years, few of us would have 
the courage to do so. 


CHAPTER III. 
ROSCOE DELANO. 


I must now relate what transpired, before I left the 
Tunis’s to visit my friend Bertram Arlington, at his 
country home Anlace. Nina Palermo we know was em- 
ployed as saleswoman in one of the large drygoods de- 
partment stores, which cluster all along Sixth Avenue 
from Fourteenth Street up to Twenty-third, and along 
Twenty-third to Broadway. 

In my desire to see and learn all I could, I dropped in one 
morning to one of those large shops, keeping myself mov- 
ing with the crowd of shoppers so as to not attract atten- 
tion. I had a splendid chance to observe all the young 
saleswomen and those who were not so young. They all 
wore good clothes, and their dresses and shirt waists fitted 
them perfectly, which seems to be characteristic of all 
classes in New York City, with the exception of the very 
poor. The girls and women were all possessed of aver- 
age good looks and here and there was one with marked 
style and handsome, but none had the beauty of Nin^ 


OR, WHEN THE OREAT CITY IS aWaEE. 2 ^ 


Palermo. Most all had that hard dominant expression, 
which mars the faces of most of the women of New York 
City. 

I had paced up and down several of the aisles, when I 
halted for a few seconds to look about me, when I was 
startled with surprise for my glance, at that moment fell 
on Nina Palermo. She did not see me for she was busy 
waiting on one of the many lady customers that clustered 
about the counter where she served. I hurried away, 
and took a position behind a pillar some distance from 
her counter, where I had a good view of her, but she 
could not see me as the crowd of shoppers passed to and 
fro continuously. 

I learned that there is a man at the head of every de- 
partment, but my attention was drawn particularly to one 
man, who seemed to be the head manager of the whole 
floor. He was about forty-three or four years of age, tall, 
well built, and inclined to stoutness. He had dark red- 
dish hair, a florid complexion, a full drooping mustache, 
and small cold light greenish-blue eyes. He was well 
dressed, well groomed, and looked as if he enjoyed the good 
things of this life, as well as its forbidden things. For 
sense, sense, stamped every lineament of Roscoe Delano’s 
face. He was a type of a class of large salaried business- 
men, to be found now in all large cities, especially in New 
York, since the department stores have come in. Men 
who would be merchants, but know the force of com- 
bines, and that in trying to compete with these forces in a 
business of their own, they could not make ends meet. 
To his subordinates Delano was cold, arrogant and dic- 
tatorial. 

Several times I saw him stop as he came Nina’s way, 
and if she were not busy chat a moment with her. I ob- 
served that while he spoke with her, his manner changed, 
his arrogance seemed to melt somewhat, and his air, while 
condescending had a touch of gallantry in a clumsy way. 
Once while he stopped to chat awhile he leaned over the 
counter, and with a twirl of his mustache whispered some- 
thing in her ear. Nina blushed but smiled assent to what 
he said. That moment my eyes chanced to rest upon a 
girl, behind a counter where I stood. She was a hand- 


24 


BEVEkLV OSGOCf) J 


some blonde, of tneditim height, her face, attractive at any 
other time, was now darkened with rage and hate, her 
eyes, which were fixed on some one opposite her, blazed 
with the venom of a serpent. I followed their direction, 
and to my surprise they were fastened on Delano. De- 
lano then walked away, and the girl, pale and trembling, 
turned to wait on a customer. In a few moments Delano 
came back. He had in his hand, a small white paper box, 
which he laid on the counter before Nina, and pretended 
to give her some instructions concerning the goods it con- 
tained. After he left I saw Nina take from amidst the 
rolls of ribbon, a letter and slip it in her pocket. 

All this manoeuvering went on while the people kept 
coming and going, and Nina busy waiting upon the shop- 
pers. I felt that the letter was the finale to the mornir.g’s 
performance. Whether Nina had been in the habit of 
receiving this kind of attention from the head manager, 
or how long it had been going on, I did not at that 
time know, but I afterwards learned that it was of 
recent date, and the letter, the first she had ever received 
from that gentleman. I looked at my watch, it was just 
twenty minutes past twelve. I left the store, and made 
my way to Twenty-third Street went into Denn’s and or- 
dered lunch. 

After lunch I walked east to Fifth Avenue, down Fifth 
Avenue, stopping at the different bookstores, where I se- 
lected a few new books, and the magazines for June, then 
returned to my lodgings, as the day was oppressively 
warm. On reaching my rooms, I quickly peeled off hat, 
coat and shoes. In slippers, and gallowses down, I ar- 
ranged the inside shutters, so I could have the light, and 
at the same time the breeze, then threw myself upon the 
couch, near the window, to have a good read, and enjoy 
that exquisite prose poem, in Scotch dialect, Barrie's “A 
Window In Thrums.” I know not how long I read, I 
was so deeply interested, when I was startled by the light 
quick footstep of Nina, which I had come to distinguish 
from all the other many footsteps, that passed and re- 
passed in the hall. Then the opening of the door, which 
led from the hall into Mrs. Tunis’s dining-room. I looked 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY m AWAKE. 2$ 


at my wateh, it was just five, and I knew Nina’s usual 
hour for getting home in the evening, was half -past six. 

I rose quickly from the sofa, and stole softly to the 
door of my little bedroom, and listened. I heard Nina 
exclaim as she entered the kitchen where Mrs. Lunis was 
preparing supper, “ Oh, mother, Mr. Hunters let me off 
early. I am going with a party of girls this evening for 
a sail to Coney Island. Mr. Hunters is going along, the 
boat leaves at half after six, and I will not be home until 
nearly twelve; you will not mind me going ?” 

“ Well, if it’s with your girl friends, and Mr. Hunters 
and his family, I suppose there is no harm to be antici- 
pated, but Nina my dear child, I will not allow you to go 
alone with any young man, to the Island.” 

“ You must trust me mother, I am old enough now to 
take care of myself,” replied Nina. 

“ Yes child, other girls have said the same before, but 
where are they now? We know what happened, we know 
what happens every day to girls who are headstrong, 
an’ will have their own way, an’ disobey their parents an* 
elders. They place themselves in the way of temptation, 
an* when it comes they are too weak to resist it.” 

“ Don’t preach mother dear, you will spoil all my plea- 
sure,” returned Nina, laughingly. 

“ Nina, my girl, I have no wish to spoil any pleasure 
of yours, that is good, an’ innocent, an’ healthy, but in 
these days, a girl can’t be too guarded. I would advise 
you though to hurry up an’ get yourself off before Gene 
comes home, you know how he takes on if you go to any 
public pleasure places without him,” said Mrs. Lunis. 

“ I have never gone to any public resort, without him, 
but once, and that was with Emma Cowen to Glen Island, 
and I went with your consent, old mother dear, so you 
needn’t take on such a serious air over this little excur- 
sion, for I am going.” The last sentence was spoken in 
quick and decided tones, that told her mind was made 
up to go, and she would not be dissuaded from her pur- 
pose. 

I left the door, and hurriedly began to dress, changing 
my pants for an older and darker pair, my white linen 
for a blue check gingham shirt and collar, wearing with it 


26 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


a black tie. Donning my black student coat, and soft 
felt slouch hat, I took from the wardrobe a light cloth 
ulster, as there is always a cool sharp wind rises here 
after the sun goes down, no matter how warm the day 
has been, this with my cane I laid on the table, and sat 
down near the window, to watch and wait. 

I had not long to wait. In about ten minutes, I heard 
Nina open the sitting-room door, and bid her mother 
goodby, then the echo of her quick, light, but firm foot- 
step, mingled with the rustle of her drapery, in the hall. 
Through the slats of my shutters, I saw her come out and 
go towards Sixth Avenue. I picked up my ulster and cane 
from the table, and in a second had my door locked, and 
was out in the street. She had gained about half a block, 
but I soon caught up with her, keeping about fifty paces 
behind her. She walked until she came to Fourth Avenue, 
turned down Fourth Avenue to Twenty-third Street, 
walked west until she came to Sixth Avenue, then down 
Sixth Avenue, until she came to the Fourteenth Street 
elevated station. She crossed here to the right hand 
corner, and from the shadow of the station, on the down- 
town side, a man stepped out and met her as she came 
up. It was Roscoe Delano. 

They turned and went together up the steps of the sta- 
tion. I slipped on my ulster, drew up the collar about 
my neck, and followed on after. Just as I dropped my 
ticket into the box, the downtown train steamed in. 
Delano and Nina seated themselves in the center of the 
car with their backs to me. I threw myself into a cor- 
ner seat by the door. I had now a better view of Roscoe 
Delano’s face than I had in the morning, as I could see 
from where I was seated his full profile. 

He wore the same light business suit, with dark tan 
kid gloves, also a high shiny hat of fashionable make, 
and carried a cane. Nina was clad in white, her skirt 
of some soft material, with a sort of sheen to it. The 
bodice was of some lacey material with silken ruffles, 
falling over the large sleeves. A white satin sash belted 
her slim waist, her white sailor hat sat jauntily on her 
beautiful head, with its rich lustrous braids of black hair. 

The brilliant complexion, the large luminous eyes, with 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 2/ 


their long fringed lids, the pouting mouth, and that air 
of indefinable something which is the inheritance of good 
blood, and pure ancestry, and which always speaks for 
itself. 

Roscoe Delano, neither looked to the right, nor to the 
left, but kept his eyes fastened on the girl, as if devouring 
her beauty. He talked to her, whispered to her, and sev- 
eral times she blushed scarlet under her veil. But with 
all his adulation, she never showed any boldness, but 
rather annoyance, and once or twice seemed to wince un- 
der his too flagrant gaze. Oh, Nina, as I sat there watch- 
ing you, how my heart ached, how my blood boiled, and 
all the gallant manhood in me kept rising in my throat, 
and choking me. I wanted to take this man, who only 
saw in your physical beauty, so much gratification for his 
lust, yes take him by the collar of his coat, open the car 
window, and throw him out, but I could not make a scene. 
I have often asked myself since, if she had been my own 
young sister wouldn’t I have given my life, to have pro- 
tected her ? Indeed I would not have hesitated a mo- 
ment, to have dragged her from him, and if he inter- 
fered I would have shot him down where he stood. But 
Nina was not my sister, but a comparative stranger to 
me and not knowing the world then as now, I tried to 
persuade myself, there was perhaps no intention of wrong 
doing on Delano’s part. I knew there was none on hers. 
Oh no, she was as innocent of treachery on Delano’s part 
as a baby, her mind was full only of the anticipated plea- 
sure of her jaunt, and was as free from guile, as the bird’s 
song of a bright spring morning. 

Bright intelligent girls of Nina’s place in life, at her 
age, feel the grind of poverty, and the lash of the tax 
master, when they have to toil, in a work shop, bent over 
their needle, or stand ten hours a day on their feet behind 
a counter, for a few dollars a week. Nina had but passed 
her nineteenth year, full of animal life, and remarkable 
physical attractions, living in the gayest, most luxurious 
city of America, or any other country. Where women 
pamper the body, at the expense of the mind, and soul. 
Where men worship, the physical, and place the courtesan 
upon a throne. 


28 


BEVErvLY OSGOOD ; 


Besides the girl knew she could not afford to offend 
Roscoe Delano, he had the power to discharge her, and 
to injure her, in many ways. She was not the only girl 
he had paid special attention to in the years he had been 
head manager of that floor, in that large mercantile house. 
But Nina was innocent of it, which I learned afterwards 
in the events that followed. I was aroused here by the 
cars approaching the station, and the conductor calling 
out, “ Park Place.'’ Delano rose so did Nina, and I jumped 
to my feet, the train slacked up, then stopped, I followed 
on after Nina and Delano. They go down 'the ^stairs, 
Delano leading the way 

It is now about twilight, but the streets are bright as 
day, brilliant with electric lights. The buildings of gray 
and white stone, and red brick, rear their great height up 
into the sky, looking like tall slender columns, piercing 
the blue jewelled heavens, and throwing dark shadows 
among the flashing, gleaming lamps. They cross the 
street, and stand a few moments in earnest conversation, 
but it is Delano who does the talking, as the girl stands 
silent, and looks around her, as if disappointed about 
something ; perhaps they were to meet the party with Mr. 
Hunters here, but there is no party of young women in 
sight. Then after some moments the sound of Nina's 
voice reaches my ear, and seems to say, “You wrote in 
your note, that we were all to meet here, and go from 
here to the boat." Delano takes her, by the arm, but she 
hesitates about going with him, finally she yields to his 
persuasion, and they turn towards Broadway. When 
they reach there, they cut over by the post-office, to the 
opposite side of Park Place, and make direct for Denn's 
restaurant. I keep in the shadow behind them and fol- 
low on. 

They go upstairs to the salon ; up another flight, there 
is a parlor for ladies and gentlemen. Delano urges her 
to go up there, but she refuses. Then they take seats at 
a private table, near a front window. I am very hungry 
myself, not having had anything to eat since noon, and 
then but a light lunch. I seated myself in about the cen- 
ter of the long dining-room, near the wall, and partially 
behind a pillar, so that if Nina, who was seated opposite 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE, 2g 


Delano, and showing but aprofile view of her face, should 
happen to turn and look my way, I conld conceal my head, 
and shoulders, behind the pillar. I felt perfectly safe as 
to her recognizing me, and Roscoe Delano did not know 
there was such a person, as Beverly Osgood in existence. 

I saw the waitress cover the mahogany table, with a 
white linen cloth, and from Delano’s instructions to her 
and the preparations that followed, I knew he was going 
to treat himself and Nina to no small spread. My own 
dinner consisted of three courses, first a bowl of chicken 
bouillon, broiled fresh mackerel, fried potatoes, lettuce, 
and a dish of tomatoes, and for dessert, a plate of wheat 
cakes, for which this restaurant is famous, with maple 
syrup, and coffee, and as I am a judge of that beverage, 
it was not bad for a restaurant. 

When I finished my repast I sat watching my affaire 
d'amonr, Nina laughed and chatted, and seemed to 
heartily enjoy eating. I saw Delano pour wine into a glass, 
and offer it to her, but she left it untouched, which pleased 
me greatly. But Delano, refreshed himself with several 
glasses. After spending an hour or so at a table, they 
rose to go, then Nina, turned herself around and looked 
straight in the direction of where I was seated. I crouched 
behind the pillar, taking a position where I could see and 
not be seen. Nina looked radiant as if she were enjoy- 
ing her escapade with every fibre of her being. She had 
forgotten her disappointment at not finding her girl 
friends, and her scruples, about going any farther alone 
with Delano. But his plausible excuses to her, that they 
had missed them, and that they had gone on fearing to 
miss the boat, which he said they were entirely too late 
for set her mind at rest, as regarded any deception on 
his part. 

After giving them a good start, I made haste to follow. 
When I reached the street, they were walking ahead of 
me, and stopped at the corner of Park Place, where the 
angle of the post-office cuts into the open square. They 
stood there about five minutes, Delano all the while plead- 
ing with her to get into a carriage, which he had called, 
and again her voice reached me, and I heard her say, “ I 
prefer to go home by the cars.” Delano’s tone grew a 


30 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


little louder, and with a ring of impatience I heard him 
say, “We will not reach the Casino in time, if we go by 
the cars, it is now half after nine and in any case the 
play will have long begun.” He took her arm to help 
her into the carriage. 

“ I would rather go home,” she answered, drawing 
back from him, “ my mother will be worried about me 
if I stay out too late.” - 

“ Tut, tut, Nina, don’t be foolish, I just want fo give 
you a little pleasure. I wouldn’t harm a hair of your 
head for all the world. Don’t be foolish, we will go to 
the play now, and have the evening out.” 

As I saw Nina place her foot upon the carriage step, 
the blood again, as in the elevated train, went boiling 
through my veins and seemed to lodge in my throat, and 
choke me. I wanted to rush up and drag the girl from 
him, but the dread of making a scene, held me back. I 
was almost a stranger to the girl, and Delano, didn’t know 
me from any other man he met upon the street. If I 
interfered he would call an officer, and have me arrested, 
and perhaps I would bring trouble on the family. I told 
myself to trust to the girl’s sense of right and wrong to 
protect herself. She was of good family, her father a 
gentleman, a man of title, and her mother, a staunch 
honest woman, of a race of people that no man or woman 
need be ashamed of. Whatever faults of nationality 
they may have, the Irish women are noted for their come- 
liness and great virtue. Besides, Nina herself had such 
strength of character, yet undeveloped, but it was there, 
and the incidents were hurrying on which would stir all 
the deep forces of her being into action, and leap in a 
moment from the girl to a woman and feel the pangs, 
humiliations of being a woman, and suffer as only a 
woman is made to suffer. 

Roscoe Delano helped her into the carriage, and sprang 
in after her. The driver closed the door, jumped up on 
his box, whipped up his horses, and they dashed away. 
I started to run across the square to Broadway, to call a 
cab, as one is always sure to find several standing about 
all hours of the night, in that vicinity. But a sort of sick- 
ness seized me, my head swam and my eyes were blinded 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 3 1 


for a moment, and I leaned against a lamp post where I 
had been standing for support. In a few minutes I felt 
better, and looked about me to see if there were a cab 
in hailing distance, but there was none. I started again 
to cross the square and had gotten through several of the 
angles, when I staggered, reeled, and fell. Luckily I had 
stepped upon the soft grass plats, to make a short cut to 
Broadway, and my head struck the soft earth. I lay 
there a few seconds, then picked myself up, as best I 
could, and crawled to Broadway, where I found a cab. 

As I stepped into the cab, I felt the same dizzy sensa- 
tion, coming over me, then my nose began to bleed pro- 
fusely, an infirmity of mine from childhood, when labor- 
ing under great excitement. Since grown to manhood, 
it comes less frequent. The driver asked me where to ? 
I gave him the number of my lodgings, for I knew the 
chase was over for me that night. 

When the cab door closed upon me I laid my head 
back on the cushions, and in less than twenty minutes, 
I was home. I called to Mrs. Lunis, who was in the sit- 
ting-room with Gene, who was seated by the table, read- 
ing. I told her I had had a fall, and the fall caused my 
nose to bleed. I asked her to send for some ice. Gene im- 
mediately offered to go for it, also to the drug store, to 
have a prescription filled, given me by our own family 
physician for the purpose. When Gene returned with 
the ice, lemons, and bottle of medicine, I was soon made 
comfortable by the combined efforts of himself and his 
mother. Gene at first thought I had carried my inquisi- 
tiveness too far, and some fellow had laid me out, as he 
expressed it afterwards. In a little while they left me to go 
to bed, and to sleep, as Mrs. Lunis said, on closing my 
door. 

But I had no intention of going to sleep. I lay upon my 
couch, for some time, until the streets grew quiet, and 
the footsteps upon the pavement fewer. The walking 
in and out through the hall about ceased, with the excep- 
tion now and then, of a belated straggler, who picked his, 
or her way cautiously up the stairs, for the janitor had 
long ago put out the lights. 

Then my listening ear caught the rustle of drapery, 


32 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


and a quick light footfall, passing my door, then a soft 
knock on Mrs. Lunis’s door. It was opened immediately 
as if some one had been waiting up for her return. As 
the door closed I heard a low musical tee-hee-hee, and 
a voice I knew to be Gene’s,say, “ Hishe-she,” I rose from 
the sofa, and slipped to the window, opened the shutters, 
took out my watch, and looked at it; the hands were just 
at twelve. I undressed, went to bed, with my mind at 
ease, and said to myself, Nina has just come from the 
theatre. Delano, perhaps has after all acted like a gentle- 
man, and is not the scoundrel I thought him. 

Poor Nina, your light tee-hee-hee, was but the faint 
echo of the excitement you were trying to repress, the 
excitement of your narrow escape from the clutches of 
Delano, and the delight, of finding yourself, safe at home, 
under your mother’s roof. And in your unnaturally bright 
eyes, that were burning with unshed tears, you said down 
in the depths of your thumping heart, that never again 
would you go out alone with any man but Gene. Oh, 
Nina, you will have to pay the penalty of being poor and 
beautiful. But sleep dearest girl to-night, neither you or 
Gene, who loves you, knows what the morrow will bring 
forth. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE FLIGHT. 

It was about nine o’clock, the following evening, when 
I knocked at the door of the Lunis’s sitting-room. I had 
just returned from a short walk after dinner, and wished 
to have a half hour’s chat with Mrs. Lunis and Gene, 
which generally wound up by the latter and myself going 
out for another stroll that lasted until midnight. 

I was also curious about Nina, and wished to see how 
she acted after her escapade of the evening before. 

I knew she had gone as usual to work that morning, 
for I had seen her through my blinds, tripping by my 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE, 33 


window. But instead of Nina, I saw as I entered the 
door, Emma Cowen, Nina’s friend, who lived above the 
Lunis’s on the second floor; she worked in the dress mak- 
ing department in the same establishment, where Nina 
was saleswoman. Emma, was sitting to my left, and was 
crying. Mrs. Lunis, was seated by the table, with her 
head resting on her hand. I could see by the light of the 
lamp which fell upon her face, that she had aged, since 
the evening before, nearly twenty years. Gene was 
walking up and down the floor, with his hands behind 
his back. He stopped as I entered, to place me a chair. 
I then observed that his face was deadly pale, and he 
seemed to have aged, like his mother. He also looked 
taller to me, as if he had taken on ten years of growth 
and maturity in the last twenty-four hours. 

After I was seated, he continued pacing the floor, his 
hands, in his trousers pockets. Several times, he took 
them out, threw back his shoulders, and shook his arms, 
loose from the elbows down. After a short while he 
looked over to where I was seated, and the tears came 
to his eyes. “ Come,” he said stooping to pick up his 
hat from the sill of the area window where it lay, “let 
us go out, Mr. Osgood, for a walk.” 

“ Gene, my son,” said Mrs. Lunis, rising, as we stood 
by the door, Gene with his hand on the knob, “ I beg of 
you, for my sake, an’ your own, not to do anything rash, 
it will do no good, it will not help matters to stain your 
hands with crime. If you were to kill that man, as he 
deserves to be killed, you would hang for it, you are 
poor, and he is rich. Besides to murder is an awful 
thing; to take life, which you cannot give again. This 
is no new story dear sir,” she continued, turning to me, 
with tears in her eyes, “ every week or two, there’s just 
such a scandal among us poor people. Somebody’s girl 
has disappeared, been stolen, or spirited away, gone to 
the bad. The air about here is always rife with just sich 
doiii’s. 

“ But I thought my Nina would steer clear of these 
goin’s on, I was so careful in her bringing up, strict with 
her, in regard to the company she kept, an’ her girl asso- 
ciates. I knew a girl, as good-looking as Nina, an* one 


34 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


who had to earn her bread, would be subject to a great 
many temptations. But she was no vain, foolish, frivo- 
lous girl, but had lots of common sense, an* strength of 
character, an* not one that would be easily led astray. 
She told me she was going with a party of girls, an* Mr. 
Hunters an* his family, I never knew Nina to tell an un- 
truth before. I think this man, who she was seen in 
company with must have deceived her, about the girls 
going along. Oh, dear sir I love the girl, as if she were 
my own daughter.** 

Here she broke down, covered her face with her apron, 
and wept. 

“ She should ha* known better,** she began, after some 
minutes, and wiping her eyes, “after all these years of 
care of her, not to come home to me, as if I would be- 
lieve anything that lying man said about her, an even if 
there was a grain of truth in his charges as if I would 
shut my door, or my heart against her.** 

“ She will come home mother,** said Gene, in a voice 
expressive of the tears his eyes refused to shed, “she 
may be home, every moment, and if she isn*t home in 
an hour or two, I will find the man that brought the aw- 
ful charges against her, and this shame upon our lives, 
and settle it with him.** 

“ Na, na, my son, you will do nothing of the kind. I 
am all right now, I must be strong and bear it.** 

“ That is the way with women,** said Gene leaving the 
door, and he began to pace the floor again, ‘ ‘ you unman 
men, and make of them cowardly cravens. Some one 
has got to take the lead, mother some of us must put all 
ties, and selfish considerations aside, and make an ex- 
ample of the man who dares with impunity commit the 
base deed that was done today, casting a blight upon the 
fair name and life of my young sister, to serve his own 
base ends, because she resisted. Oh, Nina, my beauti- 
ful Nina, my promised wife.** The last words, nearly 
choked him, and the tears, which he had forced back, 
now coursed down his cheeks, as he walked up and down 
the floor. 

I stood like one rooted to the spot. I could neither 
speak, nor act in the presence of this great grief. My 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 35 

heart was filled with a deep a-'d tender sympathy for this 
manly fellow, for the words he had just uttered, were my 
own sentiments, and the more I thought of them the 
more my blood boiled in my veins, and my wrath and 
indignation increased against the man, who was the cause 
of it all, until I was ready at sight, to send a bullet 
seething through Delano’s brain. 

“ Gene,” said his mother, as we stepped to the door, 

try my son, and be calm, don’t do anything you will be 
sorry for, anything that will ruin your own life, and mine, 
you will break my heart if you do. No matter what the 
provocation, you can’t mend matters by taking things 
in your own hands. You must leave it to a higher 
power. God is good. He will adjust things, not a spar- 
row shall fall to the ground, without our heavenly Father 
knowing it.” 

“ Mother dear, don’t worry, rest your mind, I will do 
nothing until Nina comes home,” and he bent over and 
kissed his mother. 

We then left, and in a few seconds we were out upon 
the street in the cool, fresh air. Knowing what I did 
about the affair of the night before, I felt that now was 
my time to speak. “ Gene,” I said, ‘ I feel deeply for you, 
if you were my own brother, and Nina my own sister, 
I could not feel worse. I am grieved to the heart to 
have this happen, during my stay with you. Of course 
I but surmise its nature, my conjectures may be all 
wrong. I am but a stranger to yourself and mother, but 
I call myself a gentleman in every sense of that much 
abused word. When I say I am a gentleman, I am what 
I claim to be, therefore, I ask you to make me a parti- 
cipant in your trouble, ard if I can in any way be of 
service to you, command me.” 

He looked at me and there shot a gleam from his eyes, 
that shone in the night, like a thread of lightning out of 
a dark thunder cloud. “ Mr. Osgood,” he replied, “ from 
what my mother and myself have seen of you, I have 
every reason to believe and consider you a gentleman, 
and a man of honor.” 

Then Gene related to me all that Emma Cowen had 
told him, and his mother, of what had taken place that 


36 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


morning at the store concerning Nina, and the charges 
brought against her, by the very man who had invited 
her out. 

“At first,** he began, “I thought possibly you might 
be the man seen in the carriage with her, but come to 
think of it, you came home sick, and had been home 
nearly two hours before Nina. Besides Emma Cowen, 
said you were not in it. The man, who took her out was 
the head manager of all the departments on her floor, 
and the one who occupied the carriage with her, was 
none other than this man, Roscoe Delano. A shiver 
passed over me at the mention of his name. Then he 
proved the villain after all, I thought to myself. The 
man preferred charges against the poor thing, to Mr. 
Wait, the head manager of the whole shop, in order to 
disgrace her, and turn her out of the establishment, hu- 
miliated, and degraded. Emma Cowen says, it is woe 
to the girl he takes a fancy to, if she don’t reciprocate. 
The trouble is they generally reciprocate, or succmb, 
and that is what angered him with Nina. 

“ Whether Nina comes home or not, I will go to this 
Delano,and if he don’t apologize,and take back every word 
he said to Mr. Wait before him, and the whole shop, I 
will slap his face, then shoot him down where he stands. 
Mr. Osgood, there must be some stop put to this. The 
cry of reform goes up from all around us. Vice and 
crime, must be held in check, is the wail of the platform, 
and lecture-room. The pulpit denounces sin, and laments 
and cries about the curse of the saloon, and alcoholism, 
but like divorces, this deadly sensuality, no one has the 
courage to attack. 

“ This libertinism that watches, and waits for young 
innocent girls to betray them, as a cat watches for the 
young helpless fledgling which may fall from the nest, 
only this difference, the cats kill their prey, which is 
more merciful in the end, but the sensualist, after a few 
months, abandons his, and branded with shame, and dis- 
grace, she becomes an outcast, the street her home, no 
one caring, no one pitying her. That is what fills the 
public streets of New York, and every other large city, 

night, with women, and young girls. The police have 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 37 

orders to arrest them, and they do arrest them and drag 
them through the public thoroughfare like so many cat- 
tle, and throw them into prison. Either that or they 
levy such fines upon them, they fatten and grow rich in 
a little while from the proceeds.” 

While he spoke, I looked at him in astonishment. I 
did not think it was possible for a young man like him 
to observe so much, or care to grasp in any way, these 
social problems. The more I was thrown in his com- 
pany, the more I saw he was no ordinary young work- 
man, no every-day, happy-go-lucky mechanic. The 
words he spoke, were my own observations. I did not 
have this phase of life in my mind, when I came to New 
York, and rented my present lodgings, but to see and 
to learn, how the laboring classes, the large masses of 
the poor people, lived in a densely populated city like 
New York, and get a glimpse of their domestic and in- 
ner life. But at every step of my way, in the street, in 
the cars, in every gathering, theatre or church, and in 
the parlor, into every face I looked of man or woman, I 
had this awful phase thrust upon me. 

The saying of our Lord “ That to the pure all things 
are pure,” is true; that is the pure are never suspicious, 
and to the really pure, there is nothing so repulsive, so 
awful, looking from their lofty heights, as licentiousness. 
Their mission is not to condemn but to save. It was 
only the pure and spotless Christ, who could say to those 
who were stoning the adulterous woman, “He that be 
without sin, first cast a stone at her.” The pure never 
throw stones at the weak and fallen. But the woman 
was none the less sinful, in the eyes of the Saviour, it 
was the poor helpless, defenceless condition of the woman, 
which touched his compassionate heart. And His re- 
buke was to the old rascals, steeped in licentiousness, 
who were stoning her, for an act that they were partici- 
pants in, while they went scot free. 

“ Yes, my dear fellow,” I answered, “ I am in sympa- 
thy with every word you have uttered. I was born in 
the southwest, my mother and father were Southerners, 
and I believe in the code. I think when it went out of 
date, we lost something from our manhood. There are 


38 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


things which only life, and the spilling of blood can settle. 
Like many more customs, the duel, had its right and 
its wrong side but what hasn’t ?” 

“ My dear boy, men have died, for less worthy, and less 
fair women, than Nina Palermo. But you are the only 
man who can avenge her, as you are the representative 
of her family, and the injured party, indeed for that mat- 
ter, all honorable men, and women, have been injured 
by such an outrage. Still my dear fellow, I would ad- 
vise you to keep a cool head, for awhile. Times have 
changed, sentiments have changed, this is not an age of 
gallantry or chivalary. You are very young and you 
have a mother depending on you for support. So you 
must not thoughtlessly throw away your life, but by liv- 
ing be a greater service to Nina.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Osgood, I did not think that you with your 
fresh and liberal ideas, of things, and your fine southern 
courtesy, would speak in that cold prosaic way,” he said, 
with impatience. “ I hear that kind of talk on all sides, 
everywhere I go, and in everything I read, it’s self, self, 
look out for self. I tell you it’s what is sapping and dry- 
ing up all the sentiment, warmth, and best feeling in us, 
leaving us clods.” 

“ My dear boy, I would not stop nor stay one impulse 
to a gallant, or chivalrous act, or any noble sentiment. 
But my dear fellow, this is not worth the throwing away 
of your young life. You have other duties now, and 
your duty is to live. When the time comes, and circum- 
stances are such, that nothing but the giving up of life, 
can justify the end, or save those you hold dear, then 
give it freely, but it is braver and more heroic, to live, 
and do our duty, and the work our hands find to do. 
Come let us retrace our steps home, your delay and ab- 
sence will add suspense, and anxiety to your mother’s 
already overburdened heart.” 

“ Poor mother, what will she do if Nina doesn’t re- 
turn, she was so much company and such a help to her 
in every way.” 

“ She may be home when we get back,” I said, and he 
walked on faster, as if my words, had given him a sud- 
den gleam of hope, that she might be there awaiting him. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 39 


It was eleven o’clock when we got back, but there was 
no Nina. Emma Cowen remained with Mrs. Lunis un- 
til our return, then she took leave to go to her own apart- 
ments. It was nearly two o’clock, when I bid Gene and 
his mother good-night, to go to my room, and to bed. 


CHAPTER Y. 

SHE STOOD LOOKING UP AT THE DOOR OF THE GREAT 
DARK HOUSE. 

I must now take the privilege of a seer, and relate what 
took place, at the great store. I will not use Emma 
Cowen’s words as told to Gene and his mother, and as 
Gene related them to me, but as if I myself were an eye- 
witness. 

The following morning, after her jaunt the night be- 
fore, we know that Nina went as usual to her work, and 
took her place at her counter. She was in splendid 
spirits, her face radiant with smiles, and as her com- 
panions spoke to her, she bowed from counter to coun- 
ter. When Delano made his appearance, she threw back 
her shoulders, tossed her head, and smiled defiantly, but 
her smile died on her lips, and her cheek blanched white, 
as her glance met his; and in that momentary glance, his 
face was darkened, and disfigured by all that was evil, 
cruel, and arrogant in the man’s nature. She had thwarted 
him in his plans of pleasure the evening before, now he 
would let her see that he was not to be trifled with, that 
he was master; he would make her feel his power before 
the day grew a few hours older. Poor Nina, she was 
as helpless as a mouse, in the claws of a cat. 

About half past ten, she was summoned to the private 
office, of Mr. Waite, the superintendent of the whole es- 
tablishment. “ I will be there in a minute, as soon as I 
finish waiting on this lady,” she said to the boy who 


40 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


brought the message. “ You must come along with me 
Miss Palermo, these are my orders,’’ answered the boy. 
On hearing this she dropped the ribbon she held in her 
hand, drew herself up, and proudly passed from behind 
the counter, and followed the boy through the store, with 
the air of a queen, neither looking to the right nor the 
left of her. Pier companions in labor, glanced from ore 
to the other inquiringly. “ It can’t be her discharge,” 
they whispered one to the other. They knew they gen- 
erally got that in a little red check, sealed in an envelope 
Saturday night, with their salary. 

When Nina entered the office, Delano sat leaning back 
in a chair, with his head bent, and resting on one hand. 
To his right were seated two young men, clerks, at their 
desks. To the left of him, was a small apartment railed 
off, it had two windows facing the east, a large desk, 
and several easy chairs. Before this desk, was seated 
Mr. Waite, the head manager of the whole house. He 
was a tall dark man, about fifty years of age, with hair 
slightly touched with gray. That slick, well fed, well 
groomed look, which constituted the make up of Del- 
ano, was entirely lacking in this man. The hard, cold 
bloodless man of business, was there, a perfect type, 
of the trader, in all its worst, and most disagreeable 
elements. 

Dollars and cents, dollars and cents, had wrung in 
John Waite’s ear, ever since a small cash boy, in one of 
the large Boston dry goods stores. Their chink was the 
only music she knew, the only music he cared to know, 
or to hear. The passion for money getting had grown 
upon him, in the long years of trade, until it became the 
one predominant appetite of his life, and the one which 
held all others in check. Of the two types of men, Del- 
ano was in a sense, no worse than his chief. It is not 
the things we do, that so much count, as the things we 
leave undone. 

Nina’s face was deadly white, and the blood seemed to 
congeal in her veins, and freeze her with fright, as the 
boy led her past Delano, who never moved, to the . side 
of the great man’s chair, where she stood with her shoul- 
ders throv/n back, her head proudly poised, her features 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 4t 

set, as if chiseled in marble, from which shone the 
large black eyes, like burning balls of fire. John Waite 
turned in his chair, and cast a furtive glance from under 
his shaggy brows towards her. “ Not bad looking,** he 
muttered to himself, as he rose up and took a few papers 
from his desk. “ Young woman, what is your name ?’* 
he asked, giving the papers a slight shake, while he gazed 
straight at the wall as if addressing it. A moment’s si- 
lence. “Your name,” he repeated, in a voice louder 
and more harsh. 

“ Nina Palermo,’* came low and hissing through her 
shut teeth. “ Nina Palermo,” began the great man, 
showing as little feeling, as he would if he were telling 
a Poodle, or a Pug dog, to get out of his way, “ Nina 
Palermo, you have been accused to me by those in au- 
thority here in this house, of unseemly behavior, con- 
duct unbefitting a young woman in our employ. As it 
is one of the strict rules of this establishment, where we 
have necessarily to keep many girls and women, to have 
as much for our own sake, as well as the demand of the 
public, as good a code of morals, among, them as possi- 
ble.** As these words reached Nina’s ear she trembled 
as with a chill, and wrung her hands, which were stone 
cold. She tried to speak, but her teeth only chattered, 
and issued no sound. Then she turned her eyes upon 
Delano, who never stirred, but kept his head bowed in 
his hands. And womanlike her sympathy flew to him, 
as she thought him, under the same condemnation as 
herself. For say what we will about the strength, and 
protection, of man to woman, woman, is more often the 
protector of man. A man will protect his sister, and 
mother, and wife, from another man’s indignities, but 
the true woman, with her delicacy, her fine sensibilities, 
and the shielding, sheltering, qualities of her nature, 
more often protects the man, than he does her. 

“You were seen out with a certain gentleman, last 
night,” continued Waite, “ and a strict watch was kept 
of your doings, from the time you left the restaurant, 
until the carriage, you occupied, with this man, drew up 
before a certain house, on a certain street. The person 
who preferred these charges, states on oath, that the 


42 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


house is of ill repute, and that you and this man got 
out.” John Waite, stood with his back to the girl, and 
spoke the last sentence in a cold, passionless voice, had 
he been a dead man, he could not have evinced less feel- 
ing, although he had a wife, and young daughter, living 
in a handsome house, of brown stone, near Central Park. 
All the blood in Nina’s body, went seething to her brain, 
and cheeks, burning them scarlet. “ It is false,” she said 
hoarsely, shading her eyes, the indignation, which 
wounded and lacerated her heart, flamed out from under 
the drooping lids, scorching the long black lashes and al- 
most blinding her. I have never done anything in my 
life, that would be considered unseemly conduct in a 
girl. I live at home with my adopted mother, and bro- 
ther, my mother is a highly respectable woman, and Eu- 
gene her son, is an honest noble boy. I have never gone 
out but once before with any man, but my brother Gene. 
I went last night, but I did it more to please the gentle- 
man I went with than any gratiflcation on my own part, 
and he knows I did nothing wrong, unless it was in 
going out with him.” 

She stood straight and tall, this beautiful young thing 
whose life span had run but nineteen or twenty years. 
Her accusers, a man over forty, and her pitiless judge, 
a man of fifty, a husband, and a father. But John Waite 
did everything on strictly business principles, his em- 
ployees were no more to him, than so many serfs, to come 
and go at his bidding. Indeed the black slaves of the 
South, were free and happy, compared to the employees 
of this great commercial establishment in New York. 
Although Delano’s chief, he was in some way indebted 
to him, thus every man, morally, as well as monetary 
sells himself, to some other man. They heed not the 
words of the Master, “ For what does it profit a man, if 
he gains the whole world and lose his own soul.” Ninety- 
nine per cent of all the men, who walk the street of our 
large cities of the world, have bartered away their souls. 
The man with amillion owns the man worth five hundred 
thousand, and the man with two millions, owns the man 
with one, and so on. 

As Nina speaks, one of the young men sitting at the 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 43 


desk to the left, is very restive, and his face is flushed, 
he puts his hand, to his head, again and again, and sev- 
eral times he coughs, to choke down something which 
persists in rising in his throat. He is a fine looking 
young fellow, of about twenty-five years, and a little of 
an athlete. He can hardly keep from rising and laying 
out Delano, and old Waite, the brute, and carry the girl 
off captive. He could do it too. These are his thoughts, 
but poor fellow, like most men who are brave, and at 
the same time poor, he carries a halter around his neck, 
he has a mother to support, so he gulps his feelings down 
and hates himself, because he must. 

“ The person who preferred these complaints against 
you,*' said Mr. Waite, without changing his tone, or mak- 
ing a move of his body, “ saw the carriage stop before 
this house, and yourself and a gentleman friend get out 
and ascend the steps. Now Miss Palermo, I shall have 
to remove you, on the charge of immoral conduct.’* 

All the proud blood of her Italian father, and its 
southern fire and passion, now flamed up and chased 
away the timidity and fear, which had at first nearly 
paralyzed her. “ It’s false, it’s untrue, it’s a lie black as 
hell,** she cried, raising both hands up to her temples, 
and brushing back the curls from her brow. “You are 
at perfect liberty to dismiss me, but not on this awful 
charge, you dare not do it. It would follow me to every 
shop in New York City, every respectable girl, and 
woman, would shun me, and every woman leading a 
questionable life, and your house is full of them, forced 
into it by the same circumstances by which you are try- 
ing to force me. These women would be the first to 
point the finger of scorn at me. Besides it would kill 
my mother. We are poor, but my mother, is highly re- 
spectable and proud of her good name. She reared me 
from a little child, side by side with Eugene her son, and 
my brother. Honest brave Gene, what would he think ? 
That I had all this time been deceiving him, that young 
as I am, I was a bad girl. No, no, discharge me, I don’t 
care for that, but not on such a base falsehood, of being 
immoral, I could not endure, I could not live and bear 
up under it. She turned to Delano, he squirmed in his 


44 


fefeVERLY 6S6C6D ; 


chair, for he felt her eyes upon him, but he kept his fac6 
buried in his hands. 

“ Mr. Delano, are you going to sit there silent, and let 
me go from here and into the world, with the shadow 
of that black lie, following me all the days of my life? 
Speak out and tell the truth, or are you too much of a 
coward Delano winced, turned in his seat, crossed 
one leg over the other. “ Speak out, and defend me, — 
you will not. Mr. Waite,” she cried, passionately, 
pointing to Delano, Mr. Waite neither turned to the right 
nor the left, but kept his back to her, “ Mr. Delano is the 
man, who was in the carriage with me, he invited me to 
go on an excursion to Coney Island. I haven’t his note 
with me but in his note, he said, he had invited several 
of the girls to go along, also Mr. Hunters, the head of 
my department. 

“When I got to the place appointed for us to meet, 
there was no one there but Mr. Delano; I asked him 
where the girls were, I thought it time they were on hand, 
as I myself was none too early. He said we must have 
missed them, that we would take the elevated cars to 
Park Place, and perhaps catch up with them there. When 
we arrived there, no party was in sight, Mr. Delano said, 
it was then too late to reach the boat, and he pro- 
posed going to Denn’s restaurant where he ordered 
supper. While we were eating supper, he suggested 
going to the Casino, as we missed the others. When we 
left the restaurant, he called a carriage, saying we would 
be too late to go by the cars. At first I refused to go 
into the carriage, I said, I preferred to go by the cars, 
but I would rather go home. 

“ But he persuaded me to go into the carriage, and we 
went to the Casino. After the play, I requested that he 
would tell the driver, to stop at the corner of Third 
Avenue, and Twenty-F — Street. I would get out there 
and walk home, as I did not want the neighbors to see a 
carriage stop before our door so late at night. I never 
thought of evil, I never dreamed but what Mr. Delano was 
an honorable gentleman, when the carriage drew up, and 
I got out, I discovered that we were not on Third Av- 
enue, but in the middle of a private street,the houses, great 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 

tall, grand looking, residences. Bnt I thought it was 
the driver who made the mistake until Mr. Delano took 
my hand, and said his sister lived in the house, that she 
was holding a reception, and he would like me to go in, 
that she would receive me kindly, and it would be a sort 
of a finish to the night. I drew my hand away, turned 
quickly about, before he could move, for the house was 
all dark, and a great fear came over me and I started to 
run as hard as I could, and never stopped until I reached 
Third Avenue, and my own number.” 

All this was spoken in strong and passionate vehe- 
mence, her color coming and going, her large eyes flaming, 
their long dark lashes seeming to act as shade to cool the 
hot lava that burned them. 

“ Speak out,” she cried, taking a step or two nearer 
Delano’s chair, “ speak out and defend me, you know 
the truth, and what I have told is the truth.” He never 
moved his position, but kept his head bent, and turned 
from her. “ Oh, are you lost to all manhood, all gal- 
lantry, have you no sister, no mother, have you no pity, 
no heart ? Oh, I see it all now, you are the informer, 
you have planned this to ruin me, because I was not im- 
moral, because I was not the low thing you would make 
of me. She raised her arms above her head, wrung her 
hands in the air, swayed to and fro, tottered, reeled, and 
fell to the floor, in a dead swoon. 

The young man at the desk got up, his eyes were blaz- 
ing, and his face white as his shirt bosom, and he was 
stifling for a breath of fresh air. As he started to leave 
the office, he caught hold of his desk, to steady himself. 
He made his way to a small toilet -room, went in and shut 
the door, set the water to running in the basin, bathed 
his face, and head, then he squared off, and . hit the 
wall a hard blow, with his shut fist, drawing the blood. 
The wall was Delano’s head, in imagination. “If I 
were that girl’s brother. I’d have it out with Delano, be- 
fore I’d sleep to-night. I’d like to have the satisfaction 
myself, of beating him half dead, I don’t know what we 
men are coming to. To think I had to sit there and lis- 
ten to what I have just now heard, and see that poor 
girl humiliated before us men, in that manner, by George, 


46 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


I feel like a low cowardly poltroon. If I had just myself 
to look out for, but there’s mother, she’s got to be taken 
care of, and it’s not so easy for a fellow to get a job 
nowadays. And that old brute of a Waite, damn him, 
no decent man, ought to work for him, I won’t go back 
there again to-day, got the headache.” He put on his 
coat, and went out. 

Delano rose from his seat, called the boy, an d dis- 
patched him for the woman who had charge of the girls’ 
parlor and toilet rooms. He told the office boy to tell 
her to bring two of the work women with her. In a few 
moments, they were in the office, the three with the help 
of Delano, carried the unconscious girl, up to a small 
room, off the parlor, used for the sudden illness of any 
of the women employees. Delano, made no excuse for 
Nina’s illness only that she had swooned, and ordered 
one of the women to remain with her until she recovered. 

When Roscoe Delano returned to the office, Mr. Waite 
had not moved from his desk. As Delano approached 
near him, he turned round. “ I was not aware that you 
were the man, who occupied the carriage with her,” he 
said, looking into Delano’s face, with a strange cold glit- 
ter in his deep set, whitish gray eyes. “You did not 
inform me as to that, it has been a very disagreeable af- 
fair, and I wish to be relieved of taking any further part 
in it.” He rubbed his long bony hands together, stepped 
down from his desk, passed Delano, and left the room. 
Like Pilate, he wished to wash his hands of the blood of 
the innocent. 

It was not long until the whole establishment was rife 
with conjectures, what could it mean to have Nina Pa- 
lermo, called to the office of Mr. Waite, and in a little 
while carried from there in a dead swoon. About an 
hour after she was carried up stairs Nina regained con- 
sciousness, she tried to rise but her head fell back upon 
the pillow. The young girl who remained with her, 
brought her a cup of tea, which refreshed her greatly. 
She requested the girl, to fetch her hat and little silk 
mantle, which she carried across her arm of mornings 
(for the eastern climate is subject to quick and extreme 
changes), from one of the cupboards in the hall and lay 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 47 

them upon a chair beside her, then the girl left her. She 
lay for two or three hours gathering her thoughts and 
trying to shape them into some purpose, until she felt 
it was growing late, and she must make an effort to rise 
and get away from the store. 

She was very pale and quiet, as she began to 
dress, a little too quiet. There is something terrible in 
the foreboding of the calm, which succeeds a great sor- 
row, a great grief, that comes upon us quick as the light- 
ning flash in the heavens, and like the thunderbolt 
which follows strikes us old, with years unlived. She 
bathed her face, and hands, combed out her long black 
hair, rolled it up in one large coil, on top of her head, and 
arranged the curls on her forehead. She then put on 
her hat, picked up her mantle and parasol, stole out of 
the room, which was in the rear of the building, and went 
down a long narrow passageway, with rows of little clos- 
ets on each side, for the employes* hats and wraps. At 
the end of this long hall was a stairway, which led to 
one of the side streets. She went down these stairs, 
and passed out unnoticed, to the street, to be one 
more in that great army whose ranks are ever swelling 
as it marches on and on gathering in and ever growing 
wider, broader, larger. 

It was midnight when she found herself, near the steps 
of the great house, where the carriage, had drawn up the 
night before, and she and Delano had gotten out. 
She stood looking up at the door, the windows were 
darkened and the blinds drawn. “ This is the house, 
I’m sure, it seemed to stamp itself upon my memory, as 
I looked up at it when Delano held my hand. I knew 
the kind of house it was, and like some faces it left an 
impression on my mind never to be forgotten. Oh, 
Gene,” she cried clasping her hands over her breast, 
Oh, Gene, Gene, my brother, what will you say, what 
will you think, when you come to know the step I am 
about to take. I, your sister, your affianced bride. It 
will wring your heart with grief, for you loved me, with 
a true honest manly love. But the awful thing that I 
have been accused of to-day, will spread, and spread, and 
when it comes to your ears, which it will be sure to do 


48 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


I could never make you believe, but that I have been 
guilty. I was out with Roscoe Delano last night until 
twelve o'clock, and you waited until I came home. When 
we married, if we ever did, this would be the shadow, 
that would rise up between us and darken all our lives. 

“ Oh no I cannot go home. Oh, my mother forgive me, 
for this ingratitude, forgive me for bringing this sorrow 
and disgrace upon your life, but that wretch Delano, 
must answer for it. Oh, I have grown so old, — so very 
old; — it seems years, since last night. And Gene, dear 
Gene, when you get to be that big real estate owmer, 
that you talk so much about, I hope you will not let 
money harden your heart until it makes a monster out of 
you, instead of a man. Oh, I have grown so old, — so 
very old." She drew her little silk mantle up closer 
about her shoulders. Her face, pale as death, stood out 
from the brim of her black hat which framed it about. 
Her features were pinched, and the lips drawn tightly, 
as she gazed up at the house, whose door was ready to 
open a welcome to her knock. 

“ Now Roscoe Delano," she cried, raising her arms, 
up to the purpled jewelled dome, and with a look upon 
her face, a look, in which all the girl, all the womanly 
nature, was put aside, and which transformed her into 
the awful thing, such as only a man, can make of woman. 
A something which slays every man’s body, as well as 
soul, that comes in her path, “ as you have had no pity 
for me, neither shall I have pity for you. You have 
taken all the light, joy, and happiness, out of my yourjg 
life. You have deprived me of all that is sweetest, dear- 
est, and holiest to woman. When Gene comes to hear 
of this, you will have broken the heart, of a dear, brave, 
noble boy who loved me. From now on, as I live, I will 
make you suffer the tortures of the damned. Hell, and 
all its fiends, will be heaven to the pangs that I will make 
you endure, until you welcome death as a relief. And 
when you are dying I will stand over you, and whisper 
in your ear, and tell you how I hate you. 

“ I shall have to sell my body to you for this, but that 
is all such men as you care for, a woman’s body. My 
heart and soul, will still be mine! God is just, He will 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 49 


"be just to me. He will be merciful and not damn me, but 
you are damned already. Y ou have bartered away your 
soul, this morning, sold it just as Judas Iscariot sold our 
Lord. Oh, I have grown so old, — so — old. Yet the 
years are few over my head, my body is still young, and 
I am beautiful! Oh, Gene farewell, farewell! Oh, I 
have grown so old, — it seems as if I had lived years, 
since last night.” 

She buried her face in her hands. All was hushed in 
the square, the silence only broken now and then, by the 
puff and rattling up and down, of the elevated trains. 
The shadows of midnight, crept up and wrapt themselves 
about the great tall houses, which rose up like grim mon- 
sters, and seemed to close around and hedge her in, like 
the iron hand of destiny, which had pursued her. So 
we must leave her to her fate, that we can neither arrest, 
nor put aside. 

Oh, Nina, Nina, you too must pay the penalty for the 
beauty which is always fatal to its owner, when poverty 
is its environment, unless the woman is gifted with the 
power of resistance, strength of character, and holds 
the better, and purer things of life the highest. 


CHAPTER VI. 

ANLACE. 

A week after Nina’s disappearance I took leave of 
Eugene Lunis and his mother. I promised them where- 
ever I went on my travels, I would keep a strict look 
out for the missing girl, and forward to them any trace 
of her that I could glean by inquiry, or any other means 
which I could employ to locate her. Gene and myself 
had spent all of my last week in search for her. While 
I knew all our efforts to find her would prove futile, 
yet night after night found us going to every place that 


so 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


he thought she would likely go to for shelter, and the 
day, would be breaking in the East, when our footsteps 
faltered upon the threshold of the hall door of the apart- 
ment house. 

All the while I never lost an opportunity to dissuade 
him from going near Delano, until the pain in his heart, 
the fever in his brain, his outraged sensibilities, which 
rose up in just wrath against the man, who in cold 
blood, struck down his young sister, and affianced bride, 
had cooled. I led him to believe that Nitia was not far 
away, and that she would come home sooner or later, 
all right, and not to bring her name, coupled with Del- 
ano’s before the public, which he would have to do if 
he encountered Roscoe. I advised him, to go back to 
his work, and wait coming events, wait his time. That 
vengeance would be heaped on Delano’s head in some 
other way. 

So I took leave of my new found friends, poor and 
obscure, but truer and kinder hearts, I knew I would 
never meet again. They are the gems, which are to be 
found here and there, hidden away, in the great and 
crowded metropolis of the world, where people live so 
much to themselves. Where the struggle of life is so 
keen and sharpened among the poor, the working class, 
and the middle class, that they have no time for social 
intercourse, or do they desire it. So it tends to narrow- 
ness and selfishness, which helps to dry up the milk of 
human kindness in the heart. 

It was a bright hot day, in the latter part of July, I 
found myself at Anlace, the country seat of John Arling- 
ton, one of New York’s millionaires, and the country 
home of my friend and college chum, Bertram Arlington, 
his only son. Bertram met me at the station of the 
Pennsylvania Central, in the quaint old historic:, town 
of Perth Amboy, where he awaited me with a carriage. 

Bertram was one year older than myself, and stood 
six feet in stockings, and built in proportion. He was 
as straight as an arrow, and graceful in all his move- 
ments. He was as dark as a Cuban, his fine head, cov- 
ered with a thick shock of black hair, and carried 
proudly upon his splendid shoulders. The black brows 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 5l; 

were heavy and straight, and his purpled brown eyes, 
glowed with a light, soft as that of a woman’s. His fea- 
tures were strong, and well cut, and the black drooping 
mustache, gave grace to the contour of the cheek. It 
was the mouth which was his weak feature, though 
pleasing enough when smiling, showing two rows of 
sound regular teeth, that shone like pearls through the 
inky blackness of his mustache, yet there could be traced 
much indecision of character, to gaining the eminence 
to which he should have attained, with his grand oppor- 
tunities, his gifts of mind, his wealth and position ; the 
wealth, that few American young men are born to. 
What might he not have achieved, in politics and states- 
manship for his country, if he had only put them to use 
unselfishly. These were my thoughts then. 

While money is good in its way, and would often help 
the struggling scholar, artist and literateur, yet we 
know it is more often a curse to young men of Bertram’s 
temperament. Still no boy, or man, was ever more 
lovable, manly, courteous, big hearted, and generous. 
And I, who knew him best, loved him for his very fail- 
ings. 

The drive through the old historic town, and along 
the Bay, with its elegant residences, and their pictur- 
esque architecture, was delightful. Anlace is situated 
on the outskirts, of the old quaint town of Perth 
Amboy, in New Jersey, which is twenty- five miles from 
New York City. The house was originally one of those 
solidly built old mansions, and the ancestral home, of 
Mrs. Arlington. When her father, who had outlived 
her mother by two years, died, Anlace was put up for 
sale by the heirs, which consisted of Mrs. Arlington, 
and her two sisters, one a widow, living in Paris, 
France, the other married and living in New York City. 
It was bought in by Mr. Arlington for his wife. But 
when I first beheld it four years before it had been re- 
modeled into its present fashion. 

It stood high up facing the Bay, and surrounded by 
a park, of four or five acres, looking like some grand old 
palace, its architecture a mixture of the modern and 
renaissa^nce. It had turrets, and towers, porches and 


52 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


porticoes, and a ^eat wide piazza in front, and npon 
the east and west side. The east side of the park, 
sloped down to the Bay, and ran out in a long sandy 
point into the water. Back of the park, were the stables 
and a large barn-yard, which had all kinds of the best 
breeds of poultry ; and back of these were the orchard, 
and the pasture land, where I saw some fine Jersey and 
Alderney cows and calves grazing. To the west were 
the large gardens, where were raised all kinds of vege- 
tables, and small fruits, for the table. These were pre- 
sided over by two experienced gardeners. There was 
also a lovely flower garden and conservatory. 

The house inside was princely in its spaciousness, 
furnishing, and general appointments. The library was 
furnished in dark antique oak, the books were many, 
and well selected. Some choice old steel engravings, 
and etchings, hung in the panels, between the book- 
cases which were built in the wall. Some very fine 
pieces of Italian statuary stood about on pedestals, their 
whiteness standing out in bold relief, from the dark 
Pompeiian red of the walls, and rich oriental drapery. 
A very fine DeHaas, hung over the carved oak mantle- 
piece, the red gold of the setting sun, mingling with the 
soft gray mist of the sea ; and gilding the topmasts, the 
sails, of the ships, and sloops, lying in the harbor, and 
the foam-crested waves, that lapped lazily the beach. 

The large reception hall was Baronial, and its broad 
winding stairway of oak, and hard maple, carved by 
hand, was a delight to the artistic eye. Also its carved 
raantle-piece, and its combination and blending of 
colors, its rich hangings, its costly rugs, the natural 
woods, and objects of art, all showing a real genuine 
taste for such things. There were also many costly and 
rare paintings hanging on the walls in the grand draw- 
ing-rooms, both by American and foreign artists of 
note. 

Bertram accompanied me to my room, which was on 
the third floor, and near his own. It was furnished in 
oak and blue, with windows looking north, east and 
west. When he had shown me to the bath-room, he 
left me to go to his own room. After taking a good 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 53 


warm bath, I dressed for dinner, not in conventional 
broadcloth, but in a light gray suit, as the day was very 
warm. When I finished dressing I left my room, and 
went down stairs, and out to the front piazza, from 
there I strolled into the park. As I sauntered under 
the trees, fanning myself with my straw hat, I strayed 
to my right, and came upon two young girls, sitting 
under a group of elms, whom I knew to be Bertram’s 
sisters. I had met them several years before, when they 
were young misses, fourteen and sixteen years of age, 
but they had since been to boarding school, and were 
now in society, the youngest, Maud, having made her 
debut the winter before. 

Maud was of her mother’s type of beauty, of medium 
height, with slender graceful figure. She had light 
brown hair, a fair clear complexion, with a rosy tinge 
to her cheeks, and features somewhat prominent for her 
face and height. The mouth with its red pouting lips, 
and fine teeth, was pleasing when she smiled, so were 
the large eyes of deep blue, fringed by long light lashes, 
but her face in repose, was hard, cold and repellant. So 
was her manner, and tinged with an arrogance that was 
not dropped even in the society of equals. She was 
robed in pure white, a kind of silky shimmering stuff, 
(poplin I believe it is called.) It was made with a sur- 
plice waist, and fleecy falling lace, which was gathered 
round the low neck. A rich sash of white satin ribbon, 
belted her slim waist, and the skirt hung in full folds, 
about her small feet, showing the dainty tan ties, and 
upon her head she wore a white shirred muslin garden 
hat. She was reading a book. 

The older girl, sat leaning back in a chair, which was 
tipped against the trunk of one of the trees, and against 
the trunk of the other of the group, rested a handsome 
ladies bicycle. She was about twenty-one years of age, 
and I could see she was quite tall, from her long arms, 
and the long slim body, and her peculiar dress which 
revealed every curve of her limbs. A dark navy blue 
silk Jersey, fit tightly over her shoulders and bust, and 
came down over her hips. The skirt was serge of the 
same shade, plaited in small knife plaits, all the way 


54 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


round, and came within a quarter of a yard of her ankles, 
showing the blue cloth leggings buttoning up at the side 
and over her tan shoes. 

Upon her head, she wore a white sailor hat, trimmed 
in a wide band of white ribbon. Her hair was a 
lustrous black, its heavy braids bound up in coils, almost 
covering the back of her small shapely head. She was 
very dark, not the brown skin, of her brother Bertram, 
whom she very much resembled, but the pale swarthy 
dark, of a Hindoo’s. The dark brows of the broad low 
forehead, were like straight, but delicate pencil strokes, 
above the eyes, which were neither black or brown, but 
of a deep violet gray, fringe*d by long black lashes, which 
gave a peculiar fascination to- the face, more than its 
regular features, and pleasing expression, of intelligence, 
or the small teeth, that shone like rows of pearls, when 
the lips parted in a vivacious smile, as she spoke now 
and then with her sister. 

I made my way to where they were seated with hat 
in hand, but before I had time to introduce myself, 
Jeanette the elder disengaged herself from her bicycle 
and rose. “ I believe this is Mr. Osgood, Bertram’s 
friend,” she said, holding out a small well shaped hand, 
but as dark and swarthy as her cheek. “We are pleased 
to see you, be seated. This is my sister Maud, I sup- 
pose you remember her, though she was but a little girl 
when you were here last. I was very much taller, and 
would not be likely to have grown out of your remem- 
brance. Oh, I have grown since,” she said, with a 
merry laugh, and resumed her seat. “ I think myself 
and Bertram, must belong to the giraffe species.” 

I saw she was much taller, than she appeared when 
seated. She was long in body, and in limb, with a sort 
of loose-jointed willowy grace, even in her bicycle cos- 
tume, which is awkward, and unbecoming to every 
woman, and that every man, hates to see her wear and 
hates himself, for being obliged to behold her in the 
ridiculous garb. 

“ While I have not forgotten the two bright eyed 
school girls, whom I knew as Bertram’s sisters, yet I 
can hardly believe that time has been so busy a sculptor^ 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


55 


in fashioning the two lovely women, I see before me 
from the little girls, I still expected to find. I am some- 
what like the English sailor, who left his wife, and a 
little two year old child, and went to sea, on a long 
cruise, to foreign parts. And when he returned after 
fifteen years, he had in his mind, all the while the little 
sunny haired daughter and the young wife, who he left 
behind. But the young wife, had become mature and 
worn, from her long waiting for her husband’s return, 
and the child of two years, had grown to womanhood. 

But 1 unlike the sailor, the years are not so many, 
but that I can see the school girls, in the young ladies 
before me, but the sailor, could not, or would not, be 
convinced that it was either his wife, or his child. So 
becoming discontented he sailed away again.” 

“ What a nice story,” said Maud, and smiled sweetly 
upon me. 

“ Charming,” rejoined Jeanette. 

Then a large dog of the St. Bernard' species came up, 
his coat was white and curly, with brown spots, brown 
ears, and a great shaggy brown tail, and big brown 
eyes. He walked up to Maud, with a stately tread, 
sniffed and gurgled, showed his under teeth, as he laid 
his head upon her lap, and looked up into her face. 
She patted his head, pulled his ears, and called him, her 
dear old Romany Rye. Then he went to Jeanette, 
wagging his tail vociferously, gurgled, and sneezed, 
and showed all his under teeth, a way he had of smiling, 
I suppose, and telling her how delighted he was to see 
her. She bent herself over, pulled his ears, patted him, 
on the back, and called him, the dearest old Rye in the 
world. “ Don’t you think him lovely, Mr. Osgood ?” 
she asked, rubbing her cheek against his head. 

“ I think him a splendid specimen of the canine 
family,” I answered. 

“ You think him just a dog,” she said, giving me 
rather an indignant look, “ but Rye is a gentleman in 
every sense, both in traini<ng and education, he wouldn’t 
do a rude thing for the world, would you Rye ?” 

“ You let him, get a glimpse of a tramp, peeping 
around the place, and he’ll show you what fine manners 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


56 

he has/* said Maud, with a hearty laugh. His good 
manners, will impress the tramp, to such an extent that 
he will never come again.” 

“ Not if Rye, ever got hold of him, by the neck,” re- 
plied Jeanette. 

Seeing that I was a stranger, I thought Romany Rye, 
would make some manifestation by a growl or a bark, 
to inform me that he knew I did not belong there. But 
as Jeanette said, he was certainly a well bred dog. He 
came up close to where I was seated, but never pre- 
tended to see me, but kept up a great sniffing about my 
chair, my boots, and trousers legs, for a few moments. 
When he finished his inspection, I heard a short growl, 
I put out my hand to him, and called his name, he 
looked up in my face, gave a gurgle, such as he did with 
the girls, turned away, and went and laid down at 
Jeanette’s feet. 

Mrs. Arlington then made her appearance. She was 
the image of her youngest daughter Maud. Indeed the 
best description I can give of her, is Maud, grown 
twenty-six or seven years, older, and much stouter. 
She was dressed in a simple sheer organdy, of a blue 
ground, with much white running through it, and worn 
over a iDlue silk petticoat. A blue sash ribbon belted 
her waist, and white lace and ribbon trimmed the neck, 
and sleeves. Her beautiful and abundant brown hair, 
was sprinkled with gray, its thick braids, coiled high on 
top of her head. Upon the fingers, of her small white 
hands, rare and costly stones, gleamed and flashed. 
She welcomed me to Anlace, with a warm and kindly 
greeting, for one generally so cold and formal in man- 
ner. 

Then Jeanette, rose and excused herself. She rolled 
her bicycle to another tree, about four yards away and 
left it leaning against its trunk, she then went into the 
house. It seemed that Jeanette, had been to Perth 
Amboy, on an errand for her mother, and had taken the 
ride of four miles on her wheel. She had just returned 
and had stopped to rest a moment under the trees with 
her sister, where I found her. 

In a few moments we were joined by Bertram, and a 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 57 


young man some three or four years older. He was 
nearly as tall as Bertram, but more slender, with a sort 
of feline grace in his every move and gesture. He was 
quite handsome, of the blond type, his light hair, which 
was cut close to his well-shaped head, had just a per- 
ceptible crinkle, one careless lock, falling over the white 
forehead, that was broad, and had marked ideality. 
The nose was straight almost Grecian in its lines, the 
thick golden-hued mustache drooped over the full red 
lips. The eyes were a deep blue, large and amorous, 
in expression, but a certain strength in the chin and 
cheek, redeemed his face from effeminancy. There was 
about him, an air of cool indolent sensuousness, which 
must have made him very attractive to women. 

Bertram in introducing him, gave the name, Mr. 
de Coute, but he was more familiarly known among his 
friends, and associates, as Oswald de Coute. His father 
was a broker and banker, and his country seat Malmar- 
da, joined the Arlingtons. Malmarda, was a strange 
name, to the people of the town, and the country farm- 
ers, but Oswald’s Castle, was known to every one for 
miles around. After he paid his devoirs to Maud, she 
went into the house. 

“ It’s been most uncomfotably warn to-day,” he 
said, seating himself beside me on the bench, where I 
reclined. Bertram threw himself into a big rustic arm- 
chair near by. “ Of all the cities, in the wide universe,” 
he continued, “ fo blistering a fellow. New Yawk, beats 
them all on a day, like this. A seething, zizzling, 
f unace, is no compaison.” He spoke in a cool patroniz- 
ing way, drawling out his words like a young English 
Lord, and dropping his rs like fashionable New Yorkers, 
affect. He had traveled extensively, and had lived in 
Paris, and London, several years, while in these cities, 
he mixed with the best society, that is the aristocracy, 
and nobility, dukes, earls, and lords, spending weeks 
at their country houses. He was fond of sport, liked 
horses, and dogs, bet, played cards, and gambled. Did 
ev’erything a young gentleman of fortune and leisure, 
feels it his privilege to do. He was the only son of his 
father, who was considered twice a millionaire. His 


58 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


mother and one married sister, were at this time trav- 
eling in Europe. 

I must have appeared decidedly crude to Oswald 
de Coute, quite unsophisticated, none of the Phowme die 
inonde, about me, very provincial, as they would say, in 
the old countries, and in New York, and Boston, de- 
cidedly western. He spoke of going abroad again, in 
the fall, expected after spending a few weeks, in Paris, 
to go to the Continent, and after a short tour, to arrive 
in London by Christmas. 

“ Some delightful country houses, in England,” he 
said. “ I like Malmarda, I first opened my eyes, upon 
this mundane sphere, in a little room, off mother’s 
boudoir, which overlooked the inlet, and the bend, 
where the fresh and salt water meet. I spent all the 
years of my boyhood at the old place, that was befoe 
fatha had it changed to the present affair, which is 
suggestive of nothing but la — geness. You know, my 
deah fellow, we a nothing in this country, if not 
spreading. You see,” he continued, in a low voice, 
drawling out his words, his accent a mixture, of the 
Londoner, and the dropping of the rs of the New 
Yorker, “ grandfather on father’s side, was an old sea 
captain, and sailed to all pa — ats, of the world. Mother’s 
fatha was a fama, and owned hundreds of acres, of 
land, about hea. When the old fama, went to build his 
new house. Captain de Coute, became the architect, at 
least he gave his ideas, of the castles he had seen in his 
foreign travels, to the architect, and between the three, 
the architect, sailor, and fama, they built Malmarda by 
the sea. 

“ Old Captain de Coute, was a widower, with one 
son, who is now my fatha, he married my mother, who 
was the daughter of his fatha’s old friend the fama. 
Ten years ago, father had the old castle, turned into a 
modern jumble of the architecture of different times, 
and nations. He tried to impress upon the minds of 
the builders, to not lose the castle effect. But my deah 
fellow, they lost all trace of it, sacrificed it to modern 
fashion, which means nothing, to interior utility, as 
they say. My deah fellow, we can’t build castles in 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 59 


this country, a Republic if not a castle, producing 
nation.” 

Shouldn’t care to have it,” I replied. 

“ Oh, ah,” he ejaculated, his countenance changing 
to a set expression, as his sleepy eyes, opened wide in a 
more observant glance of my face. 

“ Be careful Oswald, my friend Osgood, here is a good 
deal of a radical,” said Bertram, laughing. “ I know 
him, of old, he is a Westerner, and somewhat tinged 
with socialism.” 

“ Unless Bertram Arlington has changed the color of 
his coat, considerably since he left college, he leans de- 
cidedly that way,” I replied. 

“ All through your influence Beverly.” 

“ Well if it is socialism, not to believe in the few grow- 
ing rich, in this country at the expense of the many. 
So rich that they seek to ape the nobility, and even 
royalty, of foreign lands. To follow these people in 
what is best, is all right. In their thorough training, 
their love of country, and national responsibilities, for 
there are many noble, and gifted statesmen like Glad- 
stone, a man that the youth of all countries should try 
to emulate. He is a great man, what I call a whole 
man. It is to the old monarchial governments, we must 
go to learn the art of diplomacy, statesmanship, and 
state craft. 

“ But our great fault is we imitate, and follow their 
weaknesses, in the arrogant, and ostentatious display 
of money. Why no Russian Czar, ever dreamed of the 
wealth, controlled by a few men, right here in New 
York City, or has he ever used his power, or been half 
the despot, these men have I speak of here. Think of 
the charters given and granted by Congress, to corpora- 
tions, by which they control, thousands and thousands 
of miles of railroad, sea and water routes. These are 
given to the few without cost, and free from taxes for 
years, and if they do pay takes at all they are so com- 
paratively small, that it amounts to nothing. The la- 
borer, mechanic, artisan, all pay tithes to them. They 
set the price on all the produce of our country, because 
they control all the roads of commerce. Do as we want 


6o 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


you to do, or we will close the market to you. Through 
these channels all the capital flows into their pockets, 
and England is their dumping ground. 

“ The government at Washington, by exempting these 
corporations, and combinations of men, from paying 
their just dues of taxation, or allowing them to exist at 
all, do the people a great injustice, lay burdens upon 
the working class that no monarchial government would 
think or dare to do. Besides it keeps our treasury de- 
pleted. Then the President and his cabinet, who should 
watch these atrocities (I call them atrocities), and pre- 
vent congress, and the senate, as much as it lies in their 
power from committing them, and^protect the people, are 
as deep in the mud, as congress, and the senate, are in 
the mire. 

“ There are our farmers. In the old countries, a man 
owning two or three thousand acres of land, as many of 
our planters in the South do and more, is looked up to 
as the pride of a nation. He is entitled to a seat in 
parliament, or the house of lords, he has a title of some 
kind, either' inherited from his ancestors, or bestowed 
upon him. He is the law framer, and law giver of his 
country, its parliaments, and legislature are mostly 
composed of men of his own kind, men, to the manor 
born, men of the soil. For years in America everything 
the landowner and producer raises, has the price placed 
on it by men, who sit in their offices in New York City, 
regardless of what it costs him for labor, or machinery, 
and to work his land. He finds at the end of the year 
he has nothing, that he is forced to turn to the very 
men who have controled the price of his produce, and 
mortgage his plantation, that he is owned by them, that 
he is virtually a serf. 

“ It is the same with all our small farmers, who own 
five or six hundred acres of land. Corporations, con- 
gress, the senate, have legislated so against them until 
they are so poor, the seeds that are planted, are mort- 
gaged, before they are put in the ground, crops are sold, 
before they are grown, to raise money enough to till 
their farms. And this is more the condition of your 
farmers right here in the East, where small farms 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 6 1 


abound, than with us. We can talk big about our Re- 
public, and the rights of franchise, but let us look the 
truth squarely in the face. There is something radi- 
cally wrong in our system of government, and wrong 
has been heaped upon wrong, until might and wrong, 
combined lays its iron hand, upon the people. I believe 
the very lawlessness of our suffrage, is its own 
tyranny.*' 

“ Allowing what you say to be true in some respects,*’ 
replied Oswald de Coute, with a hard dominant con- 
temptuous, expression, on his handsome face, and all 
the soft dulcet tones of his voice turned to harshness as 
he continued, “ that it is only the few who control the 
industries, commerce, and finance of our country, it is 
only the few who are capable of controling them. The 
great masses, the hosh posh, the hordes, what the 
French call the canaille, are not fit to govern, but 
must be governed. They are no more than beasts of 
burden, you cannot make anything else of them, they 
have always existed and always will.” 

“ You both forget our great middle class,” said 
Bertram, taking the cigar from his mouth, that he had 
been puffing at vigorously and stretching out his long 
limbs. “ Why they are the bone and sinew of our land, 
they are its intelligence, its intellect. They compose 
our congress, our senate, and our presidents, and his 
cabinet are taken from their ranks. They compose our 
churches, and the preachers, and teachers, they fill our 
schools. They make our literature, science and art.” 

“ It is true so far as the latter things you have just 
mentioned are concerned, but while our presidents in 
these days, may be poor, not moneyed men, they are put 
in by moneyed men.” 

“ My deah fellow,” said Oswald de Coute, turning in 
his seat, and resting his elbow on the back of the gar- 
den bench, and leaning his cheek upon the palm of his 
right hand, while with his left, he toyed with the button 
of his vest, as he remarked coldly, and with a tinge of in- 
solent languor, “ there must be something in the air 
out where you live, that produces radicals.” 

“ Yes/' I replied smiling, “ we have plenty of room, 


62 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


if that is conducive of thought. We are not so crowded, 
live more with nature, therefore our lives, are more 
wholesome. We have plains, like great lakes, billowing 
from one range of mountains, to the other. Miles, and 
hundreds of miles, of prairies, where the sky dips low, 
and the corn, grows tall in the sun, and the wild winds, 
make harps, lutes, and bass viols of its long silken fringe, 
and play upon them a strange weird music, such as is 
only known to the winds. Where the young wheat is 
fanned by gentle breezes, into undulating seas of bronze. 
We have ranges of purple hills, kissed by silvery sheened 
clouds. Productive valleys, where farm houses, nestle 
amidst great forest trees, and white sheep graze in 
green meadows. Shining rivers, that wind through 
vale and dell, on and on to the sea. Our cities are not 
so large as yours in the East, and I hope they never will 
be. I do not believe in crowding people, if it is not 
good for cattle, it is not good for man. I believe with 
Lord Lytton, in his ‘ Coming Race,' no town or city 
should have more than twelve thousand inhabitants, and 
with Mathew Arnold, ‘ That there is danger of us be- 
coming simply a nation in numbers.' " 

“ These are the dreams of an idealist," said Bertram, 
“ they are not practical, they can never be realized. 
You can see here in our own Republic, which is founded 
upon the principles, of the freedom and rights to all 
men, that the tendency, is just the opposite. We croNvd, 
and crowd, our cities, with people of every nation 
under the sun, and each year, the rich grow richer, and 
the poor poorer." 

“It’s all foolishness Beverly, you will just waste your 
time." 

“ My dear boy, I am not the first man, who has tried 
to benefit his race, who has been told it was useless, 
that they threw away their lives. If it were not for the 
ideals, where would the human race be to-day ?" 

“ Sunk, sunk, as you say," replied Bertram, rising, 
and thrusting his hands down in his pockets, he began 
to walk up and down in front of us. 

“ I do not claim to have any special mission," said, 
Oswald de Coute, in the laziest of drawls. “ I am no 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 63 


refoma. The cranks who keep up such a deuced fuss, 
about the rights of man, and all that sort of thing, do 
so, because they have a screw loose somewhere. Of 
course, I believe in my country, and the right of suf- 
frage to all, and men’s privileges, but things adjust 
themselves, without all this eternal clatter. But in feel- 
ing, and at heart, I am an aristocrat." 

We were then joined by Mr. Arlington, who shook 
hands, with myself and de Coiite. He gave me a very 
cordial welcome to Anlace. He was over fifty years of 
age, tall and dark, like his son, Bertram, but stout, and 
florid, a typical New Yorker. Hard cold, money lover, 
yet pleasant affable, and hospitable, to his equals. He 
also loved, what men of his kind call the good things of 
life, the flesh pots of Egypt. Then it was not long until 
the butler announced dinner. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE DINNER AND OTHER GUESTS. 

Mrs. Arlington, Maud, Jeanette, and a young Mrs. 
Leroy Johnathan, stood in the reception hall, Mrs. Ar- 
lington, wore the same dress as in the garden, so did 
Maud. But Jeanette was so completely metamor- 
phosed, so unlike any of the other women, more like 
some oriental princess, brought by the touch of a magic 
wand, from her far-off Indian plains, or from the Him- 
alaya mountains, and set down in our midst. 

Her dress was of light sea-green silk, which swept the 
floor in a long train. The bodice was tight fitting, and 
covered with thin black silk netting, so were the sleeves, 
that came just below the elbow. The neck was in sur- 
plice fashion, and had soft white ruching inside, of the 
silk and lace, the sleeves were lined with the same, with 
niffies of lace falling down to the wrist, and upon the 


64 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


left of her corsage, she wore a big bunch of natural deep 
red roses. The thick braids of her lustrous black hair, 
were coiled high up around her small beautifully shaped 
head, and fastened there with a comb of pearls, a large 
diamond, sparkling here and there, between the pearls. 
Her small brown hands were laden with gems, which 
flashed and scintilated, as she waved a dark red satin 
fan, painted all over with bright humming birds. And 
peeping from under her dress skirt, which showed its 
white satin niching around the bottom, was her shapely 
foot, shod in a dainty shoe, of light shade. She stood 
by her mother’s side, and was head and shoulders taller. 
I could not keep my eyes from wandering in her direc- 
tion, she was so natural, so willowy and graceful, so per- 
fectly unconscious of her attractions, so artistic in her 
taste and actions, and everything she did, that I could 
not believe but what she belonged to our Southwest, and 
not a child of the cold North. 

I did not fall in love with her, but I admired her 
greatly, and it did not take me long to see where her 
preference lay, for in a moment Oswald de Coute was 
at her side. I could see that she was very much in love 
with him, that she gave him a fresh pure girl love, the 
sweetest, and most beautiful thing man can possess. 

Oswald de Coute had little or no appreciation of such 
a girl as Jeanette Arlington, and her love. They had 
grown up side by side, since babyhood. He was nine 
years old when she came out of her dark shell, and opened 
her eyes to the light of this world. In the course of 
time, the boy went to college, coming home every few 
weeks for a visit. After leaving college, he went abroad, 
and was gone four years. It was when he returned from 
this long absence, that a marriage was thought of be- 
tween them, by the parents on both sides. Oswald, tired 
of his four years of dissipation abroad, found in his early 
child companion, the lovely fresh innocent country girl 
of sixteen. He was constantly by her side, the long 
summer days, and when they parted in September, she 
to go to Vassar, and he back to spend the winter in Lon- 
don, they were betrothed. Since then he had gone and 
QoniQ several times^ never staying longer than a summer 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 65 


or a winter. De Coute, in these seven years, had many 
an affaire d ' amour ^ and wasted on less attractive, less 
moral women, the love he should have kept sacred, and 
given in its fullness and entirety, to this high born, high 
minded, and high spirited girl, the woman who was soon 
to be his wife. 

Mrs. Leroy Johnathan, was a dashing New York so- 
ciety woman. She was not more than twenty-five or 
six. Her husband, Mr. Leroy Johnathan, was a quiet 
cold mannered, light complexioned man of forty years, 
or a little over. He wore glasses, and was supposed to 
have extensive business relations with Mr. Arlington. 
Mrs. Leroy, had little natural beauty, but made the best 
of her physical deficiencies, as only a New York woman 
can. She was of the blonde type, her hair, of that wooden 
brown shade, was tinted to the most lovely Titian gold. 
She wore it waved upon the forehead, and drawn up 
from the nape of the neck, and wound in a Grecian knot, 
at the crown of the head. Her eyes, were small and of 
a light blue, with a greenish tinge to the iris. Her fea- 
tures were somewhat large, and irregular, but full of 
mobility, the mouth sensual, vivacious, but showing two 
rows of small white even teeth. 

She was an exquisite dresser, and on this evening wore 
a long white silken robe, that shimmered under some 
kind of thin silken gauze. The bodice was made of the 
silk, cut very low, and showed no reluctance to the dis- 
play of personal charms. But the gauze covered the cor- 
sage, and was drawn up full in surplice fashion, over the 
neck, which relieved it of bareness or vulgarity. Clasp- 
ing her white throat, was a necklace of pearls and dia- 
monds, and upon her wrists she wore bracelets of the 
same, while her small dimpled hands were laden with 
gems. 

She was a great talker, it seemed to me she lived to 
talk, to laugh, to giggle, would be a better word, for a 
good laugh, once in awhile is a very wholesome, and de- 
sirable thing. She lived to eat, to sleep, to enjoy all the 
things pertaining to the flesh, and the senses, and above 
all, gentlemen’s society. She was dull and lagging in 
her own sex’s company, and would mope, and yawn, and 


66 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


hardly ever open her month, unless compelled, to avoid 
appearing rude or too stupid. She had no interest in 
the things bright women have apart from men, as men 
do from women. But when a man appeared on the 
scene, she was all smiles, poses, and vivacity. She 
charged her batteries, and spread before him all her 
charms. She was the one, the only one, he must dare 
to pay court to. 

On being presented to her, she gave me a quick sweep- 
ing glance, that was meant to measure me externally, 
from the crown of my head to the sole of my boot. And 
when our eyes met, hers dilated with a steel-like glitter, 
while the green overspread the pupil. She was quick 
to see that I was in no sense game for her ammunition, 
and it would be useless for her to waste it upon a sober 
fellow like me. There was also a questioning in it, she 
did not know just where to place me. I was a gentle- 
man, of course, or I would not be a guest at Anlace. 
But did I represent family or money ? 

We spoke with each other but a few minutes, but in 
that few minutes, I caught another glance of her eye, in 
which I read volumes. It was directed upon Jeanette 
and Oswald de Coute. Jeanette had taken him by the 
arm, and led him to a small escritoire, which stood in a 
corner of the reception hall near the mantel-piece, on 
which were some pieces of finely painted china. They 
were by some famous artist in that line. She held in 
her hand a small plate, and was speaking earnestly to 
him about it. I learned afterwards it was one she had 
painted herself, after one of the artists. I who claim to 
have the gift of seeing, saw that her glance boded no 
good to the lovely Jeanette. It told me that de Coute 
and Mrs. Leroy Johnathan, were no strangers to each 
other, and that he had been playing with fire. 

Then the butler appeared in the hall, and Mr. Leroy 
Johnathan, and Mrs. Arlington led the way to the din- 
ing-room. Jeanette and de Coute, Mr. Arlington and 
Mrs. Leroy Johnathan, Maud and myself, and Bertram, 
followed behind. Mr. Arlington took the head of the 
table, and Mrs. Arlington, the foot. Bertram seated him- 
self at his father’s right, Mrs. Leroy between Bertram 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 6/ 

and her husband, Maud was seated to her mother’s left, 
and I at her right. The dining-room was at the end of 
the reception hall, upon the west side. It was large and 
spacious, and as Baronial in appearance as the hall. 

The floor, wainscoting, and all the woodwork, were 
of the same hard maple and oak, with the natural grain 
of the wood shov/ing. The table was elegant in all its 
appointments, freighted with solid silver, and cut glass, 
rare French china, and Irish linen damask, that looked 
like satin, and was as soft to the touch. It was served 
hy two men, one of them the butler, in full dress; his 
assistant was attired more plainly, and both were Eng- 
lishmen. 

The dinner was not over sumptuous, but consisted of 
six or seven courses. The gentlemen all drank a great 
deal. Mr. Leroy preferred pale English ale. It comes in 
small bottles, and when uncorked sizzles and sparkles, 
like champagne. Mr. Leroy Johnathan, had his glass 
filled with ice, and the ale poured into it. He quaffed 
off several glasses one after another, as though his in- 
sides were very dry, and hadn’t had a wetting since morn- 
ing. Mr. Arlington, seemed to enjoy his glass also, but 
his potion was wine, California port. So did Bertram, 
which pained me to see, and de Coute, while Mrs. Leroy 
was not far behind. Maud left her claret untasted, so 
did Jeanette. Mrs. Arlington, barely touched hers. I, 
who am prosy enough to try to be temperate in all things, 
left my glass untouched, but drank my coffee, when we 
came round to that course. I do not just admire the 
way they serve dinner in the large fashionable houses 
in New York, from the side-board. It may be English, 
and considered just the thing, but no matter how good 
your cook is, the meats and vegetables get cold, and by 
the time they come to your plate, and handed to you, 
they are cola and flabby. My coffee was made of the 
best Java and Mocha, and was served exquisitely, in the 
finest French china, with rich yellow cream, but it was 
lukewarm, and had lost all its flavor. At home aunt 
Lucy poured uncle’s coffee and mine from the pot, in 
which it was made, and such coffee, just like amber. My 
—I smack my lips now over the memory of it. 


68 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


While at table, Oswald de Conte, presented a new phase 
of his character. At times he was largnidly droll, at 
others, if addressing Bertram or myself, and especially 
Mr. Leroy Johnathan, I observed a tendency to bite, 
whenever a chance presented itself. Then again he was 
quick at repartee, sayirg some good things. These were 
generally addressed across the table, to Mrs. Leroy, who 
had donned all her armor, and sat ready with lance and 
shield, to spar, and parry, any stroke that came her way. 
She smiled, smirked, chatted, and chattered, and talked 
back, as the Irishman said about his wife, when he struck 
her, that she gave him too much back gab. And Mrs. 
Leroy, hit more often than she missed, as the blood leaped 
to her delicately rouged cheeks, and dyed them a deep red, 
her eyes fairly blazed, as she addressed her retorts to 
Oswald or Bertram. 

Jeanette talked little, but well. There was a womanly 
dignity about her that I liked, aside from her education, 
and the advantages of wealth and position, she had a good 
mind, and for her age, it was well stored. She possessed 
also a reserve, a delicacy, which greatly pleased me. 
Mrs. Arlington, while a splendid hostess, was cold and 
formal in manner. She never lacked in attention to her 
guests, but the ice was never broken, or for a moment 
thawed. Whether in the seclusion of her own apart- 
ments, with no one but her own family about her, she 
was more wai*m, and affectionate to her husband and 
children, I cannot say. But she was snobbish to a de- 
gree that surprised me, and is not in keeping with the 
society of a republican country. Whether this has come 
in the last twenty years, by the accumulation of vast 
wealth, in the hands of the few, or whether the apeing of 
foreign customs, in the governing of their domestic life, 
produces this kind of Americans is undecided ; also to 
what it will tend to is left for the thinker to warn. 

After dinner we strayed here and there, about the 
house. I was thrown again a few minutes with Jeanette. 
I found she had quite a taste for Art. “Father,” sha 
said (she called Mr. Arlington father, which I liked to 
hear, as most girls of her age, say Papa.) “ Father in- 
dulges me in my study of Art, so does Bertram. I not 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE* 69 

on?y enjoy and love pictures, but I love to draw and 
sketch from nature. Clarise and myself, have delightful 
times together, when we go off on long sketching trips. 
We go on our bicycles, and when we see some sky, or 
cloud effect, we stop and make a study of it, right there 
and then. The same with water, barn and tree, or any 
tumble-down thing, in shadow. Clarise is quicker to 
see the picturesque than I. I learn lots from her, she’s 
just full of ideas, and you know there is nothing so 
rare as ideas. It’s only the few, who are gifted with 
ideas, and when the few impart them, the world of peo- 
ple steal them, and they become common property, and 
the few who think them out, get no credit for them. 
That is what I do with Clarise, unconsciously of course. 
She gives me so many points upon this and that, and 
splendid suggestions, and I make use of them like other 
plagarists.” She laughed low. 

And while she spoke, she was all movement, her long 
limp body, seemingly to have no bones. Her silken drap- 
ery rustling and shimmering with every bend and sway 
she made, while her fan, like some gay bird of plumage, 
with wings outspread, floating up and down, to and fro, 
with every incline and decline of her figure. Oh, she 
was a picture never to be forgotten, and in her intellect 
and womanly delicacy, that added to a charm which was 
indefinable; she was a lovely girl, a delightful creature, 
wealth, family, position, had not spoilt her. 

Clarise and myself are great chums. Surely you 
must have met Clarise Cline when you were here before. 
Professor Cline’s daughter. Professor of Languages, at 
Yale.” 

When I was here before. Professor Cline had not left 
the college, and I believe Mrs. Cline and litiie daughter, 
were not at home.” 

“ Since then Clarise has lost her mother, she died about 
three years ago. Clarise, was at Vassar with me when 
word came of her mother’s illness, she is a little older 
than Maud. She has quite a passion for Art; last winter 
she and myself, took lessons in New York, from Inneze, 
and we had ^lendid times, we enjoy each other’s society 


70 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


exceedingly.. You must be presented to Clarise, she is 
one of us, Maud and myself look upon her as our sister.” 

“ If she is as lovable as her father, I shall be pleased 
and gratified to meet her,” I replied, “ all the boys loved 
Professor Cline. He had a way of gaining their respect 
as well as their admiration, besides he was a great lin- 
guist, Greek was my bcte noire ^ but many a time he helped 
me through.” 

Then she went to her escritoire, where stood the rare 
pieces of painted china, opened it and drew from it a 
portfolio, and took from it several small sketches. Some 
were in pencil, others in water colors, and a few pen and 
ink etchings. They were all views about Anlace, and 
were mostly from points where the sea came in, and were 
quite meritorious, and showed good feeling, and an eye 
for color and distances. I complimented her upon her 
talent, and hoped she would continue to improve her 
spare moments in that way, and added, “ That even the 
pursuit of the beautiful, was an enjoyment in itself.” 

“ Indeed,” she answered, “ I cannot tell you how ab- 
sorbed I become, when out sketching. Sometimes Cla- 
rise and myself, spend whole days in outdoor sketching.” 
We were then joined by Oswald de Coute, who left Ber- 
tram, Maud, and Mrs. Leroy Johnathan sitting at the 
upper end of the hall. “ I am showing Mr. Osgood my 
sketches, he was so enthusiastic over the De Haas, and 
that pasture scene with the sheep, by Clopstein, that I 
thought he might be pleased to see some of my efforts.” 
She looked up at him with a smile, it was then I saw 
the love-light in her eyes. Those strange deep fascinat- 
ing eyes. Well one could not blame her, he was a hand- 
some, high-bred, aristocratic looking young man, with 
wealth, and good family to back him, and that was all. 

“Yeas, a chaming way of amusin one’s self,” he said, 
gliding into a chair, which stood near by. “ You’ll find 
Miss Jeanette a deucedly cleva, Osgood. Clever in every- 
thing she does. There’s not a girl in all New Yawk, or 
the whole county around Anlace, can ride ah, bicycle 
equal to her. Bertram and myself are away off, you 
know, when it comes to those sort of things, I make no 
pretentions to being cleva. I ride no hobbies, I can ride 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


n 


a good horse, as well as any man, and have one of the 
finest saddle-hoses in the country. I was considered by 
Captain Mortland, of her Majesty's Dragoons, to be as 
good a rider, as in the whole regiment, young Lord Mort- 
land was the best hoseback rider in England. I like a 
horse, of flesh and blood, beta than your beastly bicycles, 
that are ready to trip a fellow up, or turn him over any 
moment by something coming undone, and getting out 
of gear. A man can love his horse, but he can’t have any 
fellow-feeling for a thing of iron.” 

“ I love my bicycle,” said Jeanette, placing her sketches 
back in the escritoire, and locking the door. “ I love 
Jumpy, he seems all alive to me, we have vsuch good times 
together, such nice long strolls, and he requires so little 
attention. Oh, yes I have a great liking for Jumpy.” 

“ I suppose you will consider me a very slow fellow, 
I have never yet ridden your iron horse, I must get me 
one when I return home.” 

“ You must by all means learn to ride a bicycle, Mr. 
Osgood. You don’t know what you miss, and they are 
so handy and useful,” replied Jeanette, rising from the 
rug, where she had squatted in Turkish fashion, her long 
robes not seeming to interfere with the grace of her po- 
sition. 

“ I would by all means, my deah fellow. I don’t like 
the beastly things myself, but I can ride one. I don’t 
pretend to be cleva, but I like sport of all kinds. I can 
handle an oar, too, still I like my horse best. My friend 
Lord Mortland, owned the finest saddle horse in all Eng- 
land, she was of Moorish blood, but I didn’t consider her 
any betta or handsomer than my brown Betty.” 

“ Or my star-eyed Bob,” said Jeanette, with her arm 
leaning on the top of the big upholstered chair, where 
De Coute’s head reclined. 

“You should visit the far West, or Texas, there you 
would have plenty of room to display your skill in horse- 
manship. Nothing can compare with a Texan in horse- 
back riding, he will jump upon a mustang bare-back, and 
away he’ll go, and the old boy himself couldn’t catch him, 
or outride him, unless some other Texan, more skilled 
than he. Bertram has promised me to soon pay me a 


72 


BEVERLY OSGOOD : 


visit. If you and Mr. De Coute could make it convenient 
to come at the same time, I would like to have you. I 
can arrange it to make the trip through some of the 
western and southwestern states, making a specialty of 
Texas. Such a trip would be delightful.” 

As I said this, my glance happened to rest upon Mrs. 
Leroy Johnathan, where she sat with the others. A pil- 
lar, jotting out from the wall where the hall arched, par- 
tially hid me from their observation, but it in no way ob- 
structed my full view of the group. As I looked again 
Mrs. Leroy’s face was turned towards us and her eyes 
rested upon Jeanette, who still stood by Oswald’s side, 
leaning over the back of his chair, where his head reclined. 
He had one hand raised holding hers. It was fierce, 
vindictive, full of scorn and hate. But in a moment Ber- 
tram spoke to her, and she turned to him, all smiles, and 
chatted a second or two, but her glance came back again 
to Oswald and Jeanette; then she rose quickly and came 
over to where we were seated. 

Jeanette, at the request of Oswald, who a second be- 
fore had asked her to sing, left us and went into the draw- 
ing-room, where the grand piano stood, I rose and fol- 
lowed after. She asked me what I liked, if I had any 
favorite song, and it came within her range of music, she 
would be happy to sing it for me. I picked up a book 
of old songs that lay on the piano, and began to turn 
the leaves, when my eyes rested upon that poem, more 
than song “ Douglas tender and true,” dear to the heart 
of every woman who has loved and lost either lover or 
husband, who was to her a “ Douglas tender and trua” 
I placed it before her, and when she saw the heading, 
she looked up at me and smiled. “ ‘ Douglas ’ is a favor- 
ite song of mine, I am so pleased you like it.” 

“ It was a favorite song of my mother’s,” I answered. 
“ For years, after my father died, just as the dusk of the 
evening stole on, after reading to me an hour or so, she 
would seat herself at the piano, and sing this beautiful 
poem of Miss Muloch’s, while I would come from any part 
of the house I happened to be in when I heard mother's 
voice, go noiselessly into the drawing-room, throw my- 
self into a big chair, and sit until she finished.** 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE, 7^ 


Jeanette’s voice was a full rich soprano, with sweet and 
varied tones. She sang “ Douglas ” with much feeling 
and expression for a young girl, and had a fine appreci- 
ation of its beautiful words and sentiments. She sang 
several other songs, some new and some old, and a few 
selections from Somnambula. These were my choice 
and she humored me. Maud then joined us ; she did not 
sing, but she played finely on the guitar and violin. We 
left the drawing-room, and as we passed through the re- 
ception hall, to go to the porch, Mrs. Leroy Johnathan and 
De Coute were standing in a recess made by a pillar of 
an arch, and the large folding doors, leading into the 
drawing-room. She was chatting gaily to him, her head 
and her fan keeping pace with her tongue, in their ges- 
ticulations. De Coute was laughing heartily at her chat- 
ter. 

I followed after Maud and Jeanette. Mrs. Arlington 
was sitting alone, and Mr. Arlington and Mr. Leroy were 
walking in the park, smoking cigars. As Jeanette stepped 
out upon the piazza, she looked all about her, and an ex- 
pression of disappointment came into her face, when she 
saw no one but her mother. She must not have seen De 
Coute with Mrs. Leroy in the reception hall, and expected 
to find him on the piazza. After speaking a few words 
of endearment to their mother, the two sisters went 
down the steps to the park. I brought a chair from the 
upper end of the porch, where there were several, and 
seated myself near Mrs. Arlington, to have a few moments 
chat with her. 

She seemed pleased with this little act of attention, and 
made herself quite gracious to me. She hoped that I 
would not consider this going off to herself, any negli- 
gence of her guests. “ I like to be alone a little while,” 
she said, “it rests me. Young people generally amuse 
themselves, I don’t care to leave them too long, but a 
quarter or half an hour stolen this way, does me lots of 
good, and I am not missed. Lately I leave much of the 
entertaining to Jeanette and Maud. Jeanette, I must 
say, is peculiarly gifted in that way. Since she first made 
her debut in society, she has been a favorite with every- 
body, high and low, rich and poor. There is not a work- 


74 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


:aian on the place, nor a tradesman in Amboy, nor a far- 
mer, for miles around Anlace, but knows Jeanette and 
Clarise Cline. They are great favorites also with their 
wives and children. Jeanette and Clarise know no social 
distinction, when it comes to worth. I take no credit for 
this, they are girls with minds of their own, they are 
what men call advanced girls.'* 

“ I should think yon would be proud of such a daughter 
as Jeanette. Women born to wealth and position, are 
seldom original thinking women or have minds broad 
enough to grasp the diferent phases of human life, or 
measure the worth of the individual, aside from place, 
wealth and position. To be able to see and appreciate 
worth in the humble and lowly walks of life, is a divine 
gift.” 

“Yes, I admire and respect all these things, and I love 
Jeanette for being the girl she is, but I fear I cannot 
reach so high. I have the old English Puritan blood in 
my veins; you see my daughter Maud and myself are 
very much alike. If we were left to ourselves, we would 
be arbitrary in drawing the social lines, and I fear they 
would be narrow and tight. Jeanette is like her father 
and Bertram and her father and brother will miss her 
greatly. She is going to leave us in the Fall, she and 
Oswald are to be married early in October, and go abroad 
for the winter.” 

“ I can sympathize with you for her loss, while I con- 
gratulate De Coute on gaining such a prize for a wife. 
She is a gem, a pearl of priceless value, I hope he thinks 
of her as such,” I answered sadly. 

“ I thank you,” she replied, after a pause of some mo- 
ments, as if my words had touched a key that gave forth 
discord. Yet there was no way of turning it to the har- 
mony it disturbed. “ Oswald and Jeanette have been 
brought up side by side, since they were babies, they 
have loved each other from childhood, and have been 
engaged for four years. They are to return next Spring, 
and his mother and sister are to be here in September 
for the wedding. Malmarda is to be put in readiness 
during the winter, and they are to reside there, with Cap- 
tain and Mrs. de Coute. Jeanette would not be lappy 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 75 

to live away from her father and myself, and her home. 
When they return in the Spring, Oswald is to go into his 
father's bank, so I shall have my daughter near me.” 

Then we heard Mr. Arlington’s voice callirg to his 
wife. She rose, saying “ I believe the girls have gone 
down to the Bay with Bertram, supposing you take a 
walk down that way, I think you will find them,” and 
excusing herself, she left me. 

It was now dark outside. I rose and went into the 
hall for my hat. A soft dim light came from a large 
bronze lamp upon the lower post of the stairway. Think- 
ing I was all alone in that part of the house, and feeling 
the sense of its spaciousness, its elegance, the beauty of 
its color and furnishing, its paintings and art objects, and 
over all the soft shadowy light, I thrust my hands down 
in my trousers pockets and in a dreamy way, began to 
pace the floor, up and down. Straggling into the grand 
salon, and walking down half its length, I heard the 
sound of voices, in a low conversation, then I caught sight 
of two figures in an alcove, made by an arch and a bay- 
window, which looked east upon the park and the Bay. 
Oswald de Coute was standing by the side of Mrs. Leroy 
Johnathan. He had his arm about her waist, and was 
speaking in a low, but vehement way. On discovering 
them, I started back a pace or two with surprise, then 
stood still, unable to move for a second. But recovering 
myself, I hurried as fast as my feet could carry me, to 
the upper end of the drawing-room, my steps falling 
noiselessly on the thick Turkish carpet and rugs. 

I went into the hall, and from there out upon the 
porch, there was no one to be seen. I then went dovv^n 
the steps, and into the park. As I made my way east 
to the side of the house, I saw the outlines of several fig- 
ures, sitting under the trees, where I first discovered 
Maud and Jeanette in the afternoon, and heard the sound 
of their voices in pleasant conversation. I did not stop, 
but sauntered on down the path to the gate that led to 
the road. 

What had I stumbled on, I thought to myself; surely 
in the gilded halls and palaces of the rich and cultured, 
there is no excuse for double lives, closets where dark 


76 


BEVERLY 0SG0013 J 


secrets are kept, ah, yes a decaying putrid corpse, hidden 
away, locked and bolted. Surely Oswald de Coute, from 
his loving attitude, was on more intimate terms with 
Mrs. Leroy Johnathan, than that of friendship, or the 
mere social acquaintance of those in the same set, who 
meet often or casually, in the social world. 

But I must stop, the seer is not so privileged with his 
gifted eyes, to at any time draw the curtain aside, show- 
ing the bare, and naked truths, the smirched souls, the 
black spots and sores that fester beneath purple and fine 
linen. Mrs. Leroy Johnathan was a great lady, one of 
New York’s social queens. I opened the gate and passed 
out. It was a lovely clear night, a delicious breeze came 
up from the sea, and stirred the leaves of the trees to 
soft lullabys ; through their interstices I caught a glimpse 
of the Bay, glistening like a silver bow, setting low in 
the horizon, and underlined by its white sandy beach. 
To my left lay the Inlet, its opposite shore dotted with 
cottages. I turned towards the town, above me was the 
purple heavens, studded with millions of scintillating 
stars, my ears filled with the gentle whisperings of the 
oaks and maples, the lip and lap of the waves, the flut- 
ter of sails, like the whr-r-rr of unseen angel wings, and 
the echoing voices, which lent charm and mystery to the 
summer night, all blending in a rythm of harmony, like 
the sweet melody of a song, and my swelling heart re- 
sponded. 

I had not gone far, when I saw about a hundred paces 
before me the light of a cigar, and coming towards me, 
a tall man. As I drew nearer I discovered it was Ber- 
tram, as he approached closer, he shouted, “ By George, 
if it isn’t Beverly. I thought I was coming face to face 
with some dangerous tramp. And I began to feel in my 
pocket for my whistle, but from some peculiar movement 
of yours, I recognized you.” 

“ And I knew that six feet in socks of yours, as you 
turned the little bend in the road.” 

“ Lately there have been a number of tramps sneak- 
ing around here. We never used to have anything of 
that kind until the last year or two. The sailors 
used to come and go, and sometimes at night keep up a 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE, 77 


^eat racket, but they would never molest anybody. If 
I should blow this whistle, anywhere within the hearing 
of the dogs, they would come tearing and snarling, leap- 
ing over hedges and fences, and I pity the man in sight.” 

“ I have had a narrow escape then” I said, laughing 
heartily. 

I never blow it until I am sure of harm, there are 
generally two men, one a confederate, I could easily 
handle one man, you know. I am a good boxer, and a 
full blow from this arm out upon the head, there 
wouldn’t be much sense left in his cranium. But when 
tramps hear the whistle, they know it means dogs, and 
the dogs send them a flying, and there is no harm done. 
Knowing your propensity, Beverly, to wander off by 
yourself at night, I must give you a whistle, you must 
arm yourself, old fellow.” 

“ I will be glad of a whistle, but not any other weapon 
of defense, I never carry firearms of any kind. Of 
course you know, it’s not that I am cowardly, but some- 
times we are hasty when we have them about us, and 
men have been known to use them, when afterwards it 
has been a life-long regret to them,” I answered. 

“ I will have to beg your pardon, Beverly, for leaving 
you to-night. I knew you would be well taken care of 
by mother and the girls. I had an engagement at old 
Professor Cline’s this evening; he is home from Yale, 
and is going to remain home all summer. His cottage 
is about a mile from here, below us, overlooking the In- 
let, a romantic old place, and made more so by one of the 
sweetest and dearest of girls in all the United States. 
You must meet her, Beverly, but I warn you, before- 
hand,” and he gave a big hearty laugh, “ I will give you 
leave to admire her, but you must stop there,” and he 
laughed again. 

“ That isn’t fair, Bertram,” I replied, enjoying his ban- 
tering, “to bring a fellow among all these lovely girls, 
and expect him to remain heart whole and fancy free. 
I am not a stick or a stone, any more than yourself. 
There is your sister, the queenly Jeanette, with hei 
warm, Oriental beauty ; I learned from your mother, to- 


78 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


night, she was engaged to Oswald de Conte, and is to 
be married to him in October.” 

“Yes, Jeanette has been romantically in love with 
Oswald from childhood. To be candid with yon, Bev- 
erly, if I had anything to say in the matter, he wonld 
not be my choice of a hnsband for my sister, bnt women 
will have their way. They have been engaged nearly 
fonr years. I hope yon have not allowed yonrself to be 
hit there. Althongh yon wonld be my choice Beverly, 
jnst the man to appreciate Jeanette and make her happyo 
She’s my favorite sister, and a splendid girl. Mand is a 
nice girl too bnt cold and formal ; the men don’t take to 
her. 

“ She is a charming girl, very retiring, bnt with her 
good looks, family and big fortnne, she will have her 
pick and choice of a hnsband.” We had come to an old 
log, that lay near the bank, it had been bronght there 
and placed nnder a tree, whose branches overhnng the 
beach. We lighted onr cigars, and sat down npon it for 
a chat, and a social smoke. 

“ I am going to give myself plenty of time to think 
abont marrying,” said Bertram mnsingly, “ I intend to 
open a law office in New York, this Fall. Jeanette goes 
abroad for the winter, bnt is expected to retnrn in the 
Spring, and Oswald intends to settle down and go into 
his father’s bank.” 

“And when I go back home, I will take np jonrnal- 
ism as a profession, I like it better than law.” 

So we sat and talked, while the waves lipped and 
lapped against the beach. The trees sighed and songhed 
above onr heads, and the Bay lay like a shimmering an- 
chor, with one arm dipped in the sea, the other seem- 
ingly cleft in the low horizon. Above its line, was a 
long streak of light, and over it were large dark clonds 
looking like islands dotting a golden green lake. White 
wings darted in and ont, from reefs and crags, and with 
a dip, and a swipp, a flntter and a whir-r-rrr, glided past 
ns. All abont ns was the night, the beantifnl night, 
with its jewelled heavens, its hnshed voices, its low mnr- 
mnrings, its twinkling lights and deep shadows, and cool 
winds. I 3poke to Bertram of his fntnre, his ability, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 79 

his talents, and his great opportunity to make use of 
them. “ Take tip your country’s cause,” I said, ‘‘ work 
for its freedom, for just and equitable laws for all men. 
Our Republic has come to mean, where there is not li- 
cense, worse despotism, than any monarchial govern- 
ment. You know how corrupt the republic of Rome 
became, and the cause of its downfall. To-day most of 
our Congressmen, and all of the Senate, instead of being 
a body of patriotic and just law-makers, working singly 
for their country’s good, turn the white Capitol into 
a den of gambling merchants, v/ho reduce our farmers 
and working people to the condition of serfs, and make 
laws to favor foreign and home trusts, and raffle them 
to the highest bidder. There are a few men, now and 
then sent to Congress and the Senate, who fight valiantly 
for the people’s best interest, but they are so few they 
don’t count. The fi.rst thing you do when you enter the 
race, is to lay all selfish considerations aside; if you for 
a moment allow them to influence you, you are lost. 
You will have to fight, if you are on the right, long and 
hard, fight until the end. If you do you will win a name 
that will never die.” 

He rose up, took his cigar from his mouth, threw back 
his shoulders as if I had given new impetus to his reso- 
lutions. “You are right Beverly, you are always right,” 
he said, brushing the ashes from his cigar, “but* when 
you go west and take up journalism, suppose you differ 
from me in your politics, what then ?” 

“We are of the same political views now, as we have 
been all through our acquaintance. If you fight for right 
and justice, and oppose the combination, and concentra- 
tion, of the few, to oppress the many, we will be in 
harmony though we may differ on party lines.” 

We had reached the gate, went in and walked up the 
carriage drive to the house. There was no one to be 
seen about, all the family and guests, must have retired 
to their rooms. We entered a side door, that opened 
into a wide hall, which ran across the reception hall, to 
the east side. Here was seated an elderly man, who 
Bertram addressed as Dan; he was the watchman, an 
old retainer of the family. He rose up when we entered 


8o 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


and greeted ns both, Bertram asked him if his mother 
had retired. 

“ The mistress is in her room, I believe,” he answered, 
and began locking np. When we reached the second 
landing of the stairs, Bertram bid me good-night. “ I 
always stop a moment in mother’s rooms, before going 
to my own; it’s jnst eleven o’clock, I think I hear my 
sisters’ voices. It’s the family meeting place, Beverly, 
before we turn in for the night.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A MORNING WITH CLARISE. 

The night was so deliciously cool, that I slept its 
whole long hours through, without waking until I was 
aroused by a knock at my door. It is my custom before 
retiring to pull the curtains of my windows up to the 
very top, so as to admit the light of the night in my 
room, for the night, has a light of its own, which has a 
great charm for me, and I love it. I generally rise of 
summer mornings by daybreak, and draw down the 
blinds, and partially close the inside shutters, so I can 
sleep until my hour for rising, but this morning I 
snoozed on, until awakened by the rap on my door. 

I turned over, and took my watch from under my pil- 
low, to see the time. It was a quarter past six, I rose, 
slipped on my pants, and went to the northeast window, 
and looked out. A luminous silvery mist, hung low 
over the Bay, which caught all the opal and golden tints 
of the sky in its ripples. To my right in the distance 
lay the old town of Perth Amboy, nestling in the sun- 
shine, the haze massing and blending the houses, build- 
ings, the schooners, sailboats, and yachts, that anchored 
near the beach, until it seemed to my imagination it was 
Venice, rising out of the sea, A little beyond were the 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


8l 


green flats of the Jersey shore, and to my left was Stat- 
en Island. The cool breeze swept up to my cheek, 
fresh with the smell of salt water, the scent of sea- weed 
and sand blossoms. 

I left the window, and began to dress. When I 
finished my toilet, I went down stairs and out to the 
piazza. I had just seated myself upon one of the rustic 
chairs, when Mr. Arlington came from the east side of 
the house, with a bundle of newspapers in his hand, and 
several under his arm. He came up the steps of the 
porch ; after the usual good morning, and other casual 
remarks, about it going to be a hot day in the city, and 
so on, he drew up a chair, and seated himself beside 
me. He wore a black coat of some thin kind of stuff 
and trousers and vest, of light linen crash, fresh from 
the laundry. 

“ You see we are early risers in the country ” he said, 
throwing the papers on the floor of the pcich, at his 
feet. “ You wouldn’t believe that I have been over the 
whole estate, this morning, and have spoken with every 
employee upon it, and left him his orders for the day. 
Of course,” he continued picking up one of the news- 
papers from the floor, and opening it, “ the Madame has 
her say, and her way with things too. I never infringe 
on her rights, what pleases her and the children, pleases 
me. But there are things, that she leaves entirely to 
me to look to. I do this every morning before break- 
fast, there is not a man employed on this estate that 
works harder than I. 

“ Then I take the eight-thirty train to New York, ar- 
rive at my office a little after nine, look after my clerks 
there for an hour or two. After that I am generally 
called here and there, to different parts of the city, get 
down town to lunch about two, and to my office again 
at half after two, work until four then leave for home. 
You see what a routine it is.” 

“ Great possessions require much care,” I replied. 
“ You will have to harness in Bertram, but I believe his 
desire is to practice law.” 

“ I prefer to have him,” he answered shaking out his 
paper, and running his eyes down its columns, “ he can 


82 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


help me much better as an attorney, than in any other 
capacity.” Then he asked me many questions about the 
AVest, and my own city, and the value of good real es- 
tate there, and the loaning and investing of money in it. 
All of which I answered to the best of my ability, with 
my limited experience and knowledge of such things. 
He looked at me keenly and wondered if I were feign- 
ing indifference, or was it stupidity in me that I should 
show so little interest in the main chance, that of making 
money. And as I went on talking about this and that, 
there was contempt, expressed in every feature of his 
face, to think that I was so indifferent to the subject, 
that he had put all the energy of his life into, and which 
was the aim and end of his existence. 

Then he gave some advice about business, and how 
to succeed in making money. I listened attentively to 
him, and of course sided with him. But my thoughts 
and my aims, ran in another direction. I do not mean to 
say, that money rightly handled, and used so as to be a 
benefit to mankind, is not a great blessing, but I would 
make it my servant, and not my master. So far in my 
own life, the necessity of earning money, had not fallen 
to my lot. My wants which were never extravagant, 
had always been supplied by my uncle. So I placed no 
particular value on the article, only so far as to carry 
out the bent of my inclinations. 

The butler then announced breakfast. I found all the 
other members of the family in the reception hall. Ber- 
tram came down the stairs, as I entered. Jeanette wore 
a white morning robe, of some gauzy material, soft and 
clinging in drapery. Maud also wore white. Mrs. Le- 
roy Johnathan a robe of pale blue, with creamy lace 
and ribbons. Mrs. Arlington wore white also. Oswald 
de Coute was not present, he went home to Malmarda, 
every night. 

After breakfast, which I enjoyed more than the din- 
ner of the evening before, as the coffee was delicions, 
and hot, Jeanette proposed a visit to Professor Cline’s 
and an hour later we started. Jeanette, Maud, Bertram 
and myself. The girls went on before, Bertram and I 
following on after, The v/alk was delightful, with the 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 83 


cool sea breeze fanning our cheeks, and the long shad- 
ows, thrown across the road by the elms, oaks, and 
maples, and the sweet songs of the birds in their 
branches, made my heart as glad as all nature around 
me. 

The professor’s cottage was nearer the town of Amboy, 
and more likely two miles from Anlace than one, as 
Bertram had said in our talk on the beach, the evening 
before. It stood nearing the end of the long avenue, 
that ran alongside the Bay, and upon the bend of a small 
Inlet. It was a picturesque modern built cottage, 
painted a dark reddish brown, with gables, and dormer 
windows in the gables of the second story. The first 
story had low windows, and lovely wide porches all 
around it. It stood considerable distance back from the 
water, and was surrounded by a park of two or three 
acres. Tall elms and beeches shaded its lawn, which 
was enclosed by hedges. Flowers and plants bloomed 
everywhere in tubs and pots, vines and honeysuckles 
trailed over the side fences, and the railings and posts 
of the front porch, were radiant with the color and per- 
fume of the pink and white roses that climbed up and 
wound their tendrils about them. This was Professor 
Cline’s home. 

At Cambridge during the winter months, when his 
wife lived, he had rooms and board with a widow of one 
of Yale’s old professors, but Mrs. Cline came back to 
her home early in the spring, leaving Clarise, with the 
widow and her father, until the summer months’ vaca- 
tion. The professor felt Clarise could not be taken 
from her studies, and Mrs. Cline remained until late in 
the fall. As we approached the house, I saw standing 
in the front yard, half way between the porch and the 
gate, a young girl. She was of medium height, and clad 
in a pale pink dress. Upon her head, she wore a white 
shirred muslin garden hat. The reddish brown of the 
house, the green of the vines and the trees, made a dark 
background which threw out her slender figure into 
bold relief. As we drew nearer, and she caught sight 
of Jeanette and Maud, she came down to the gate, and 
received the girls, with a kiss and an embrace, Bertram 


84 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


walked in as one perfectly at home, making some bright 
remark as he took off his hat. Jeanette then presented 
her to me. 

What was it that made my heart leap np in my throat 
and almost choke me, and my head swim, and the film 
gather in my eyes, and for a moment blind me when I 
looked upon the face of this young girl. And oh, what 
a face ! A face rarely seen in all the pretty bright and 
handsome girls, and older women of our day. It was 
not the rich gold-brown hair, that lay in ripples upon 
the white blue-veined forehead with its dark penciled 
brows, nor the large dark purplish-blue eyes, with their 
long dark lashes ; serious eyes, deep in their depths 
of thought, poetry, music, art, and love. Nor the deli- 
cate chiseled nose, with just a perceptible tilt of the re- 
trous6, a mouth arched like a bow, and teeth like pearls. 
Nor was it the oval cheek, that rounded into the pointed 
chin, rivaling the tints of the sea-shell in its fairness. 
But the serene sweet expression, the purity and intellect 
of her countenance, and the gentle quiet dignity, which 
pervaded her whole being. 

Never in all my young manhood, had I been so 
touched. I was acquainted with the daughters, of many 
of the best families of my own city. I had by accident 
run across Nina Palermo (poor, but superb Nina), and 
here was the lovely Jeanette, and fair cold aristocratic 
Maud, her sister. While these girls, were all exceptions, 
they only pleased and interested me, like some geolo- 
gist, who in pursuit of his studies, comes across some 
uncommon and rare specimen of stone, or quartz, he is 
pleased and delighted with it, he carries it home to be 
one more in his cabinet of treasures. So it was with 
myself in my studies of the human species. But Clarise, 
fairest of her kind, beautiful maid, the dream and ideal 
cf my youth, were you another’s, were you the chosen 
of my friend Bertram ? 

All this feeling and questioning was but momentary. 
In a few minutes I was myself again, as she greeted me 
with a gracious smile that lighted up her face, and re- 
vealed even more of the hidden lofty nature within. 

“ Father has gone to Amboy,” she said, as we took 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 85 


seats on the porch. “ I am expecting him home every 
moment,*' and she removed her garden hat. 

Then I saw the fine contour of her head, with its rip- 
pling hair. She seated herself near Bertram. He leaned 
over and in a low voice, made some gracious remark, at 
which she smiled. Then I saw that he loved her, that 
his love, had all the ardor, passion and romance, of first 
love. I do not think he saw her as I did. I think that 
many of the qualities of her fine nature, were lost on 
him. A vessel cannot receive more than it has the capa- 
city for holding. But he loved her in his way, though I 
do not think he had proffered his hand and heart as yet, 
but that anything in the future might come to prevent 
it, no one ever dreamed, he least of all. 

“ Here is papa now,” she said rising, and going to 
meet the professor, as he came up the walk. “ Father 
this is Mr. Osgood, one of your old pupils at Yale. He 
is from the West, and is paying Bertram a visit at 
Anlace.” 

“ Why bless me this is Beverly, my western lad, my 
socialist, a boy, whose brain had more capacity for turn- 
ing out new ideas, than for mastering Virgil or Homer. 
I am really pleased and proud to see you. Be seated,’* 
he said, all this in his kind and gentle manner, and the 
courtesy, for which he was always distinguished. 

He was a tall slender man, and at this time about 
sixty years of age. His spare brown hair was streaked 
with gray, his forehead high with much breadth be- 
tween the eyes, that were deep set and gray in color, 
and sparkled out from under heavy brows, with a kindly 
humorous twinkle. His face was inclined to length, and his 
short cropped brown beard and moustache, like his hair, 
were streaked with silver. He was one of the most lov- 
able of men, and a gentleman in all its sense and meaning. 

He invited Bertram and myself into his library. The 
girls had gone into the house, and were in some part of 
it. We entered a wide square hall, in which stood a 
large bookcase, and an old-fashioned clock of dark oak, 
that reached from the floor half way to the ceiling, its 
tick, a low bell of rythmical sounds, I stood for a mo- 
ment looking at it with delight. The floor was of stained 


86 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


wood, and tables and easy chairs stood about. A few 
rugs lay here and there, and some rare steel engravings 
hung upon the walls. As we passed into the library, I 
glanced to my right, and had a peep into the parlor, 
which was a large square room, hung all in blue and 
white, its furnishing seemingly to be more an expression 
of Clarise, than any other part of the house. 

But the library was a love, furnished plainly but in 
perfect taste. One large rug covered the centre of its 
polished floor, and in the middle of this stood a long 
handsome oak table, sprinkled with the latest magazines, 
and new books. Bookcases, filled with books, were 
fitted into every angle of the wall, where there was 
space large enough, and at the lower end of the 
room, was a broad bay window, with cushioned 
rests. It looked into the orchard, and through the in- 
terstices of the trees, one caught a glimpse of the Bay. 
The walls were tinted a blue-gray, and in the small 
panel-like openings left by the bookcases, hung some 
fine etchings, some rare pictures in oil and water colors, 
picked up here and there by the professor on his several 
visits abroad. One of Turner’s beautiful engravings of 
his Heidelburg, hung over the mantlepiece of dark oak. 
A sea view in oil, stood upon an easel, which the pro- 
fessor pointed to with great pride. It was painted by 
his daughter Clarise, and showed talent in that line of 
an exceptional order. In the soft gray and opal tones 
of the sea, and the low-hanging clouds, tinged with faint 
violet. It was a song of the sea on canvas, and she had 
caught a strain of its poetry. 

But the professor’s library was his pride, next to his 
only daughter and child ; it was the second edition of 
himself. Clarise was the light of his eye, the beauty 
and brightness of his home, and the joy and love of his 
heart. But after her came his books (ah, they were the 
thing). Books, books, ancient, middle-aged, and of the 
present time. Rare old editions, of the Latin and early 
Greek writers. The four gospels, written on vellum, 
and illuminated by the monks. Old Greek lexicons, the 
Vedas, in the original Sanscrit. An old twelfth century 
Bible, in the loriginal Hebrew, Also all the English 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 87 

classics, and standard writers, down to the present 
time. 

Bertram and myself were busy looking over a new 
work on Palestine and Pompeii, with illustrations and 
photographs of the findings of the excavations, when a 
pretty-faced maid entered the library, and asked the 
professor, “ If he and the two gentlemen, wouldn’t please 
to step out to the orchard, that Miss Clarise, and the 
other young ladies waited them there.” 

I saw the professor’s eyes twinkle, as he rose and led 
the way to the hall, where we found our hats. A man’s 
hat is the indispensable companion ; to take two steps 
from the house, even in his own yard, without his hat, 
is not to be thought of. The hat must go on the head, 
or be carried in the hand. We followed the professor 
through the hall, and through the dining-room, and out 
the side door; as we turned the last angle of the house, 
I got a glimpse of the orchard. In about its centre, 
stood a large apple tree, whose branches hung low, and 
spread out wide, making a complete shade, under this 
tree was a goodly sized table and the girls, sitting 
around it. As we approached there went up a merry 
chorus of laughter. 

“ A garden of the Hesperides, and the three Nymphs 
guarding the golden apples,” said Bertram, seating him- 
self next to Clarise. 

“ I doubt if the classic groves of Greece, or the gar- 
dens of Tempos, in the valley of Thessaly, with its 
river Penens, and called by the poets the most beautiful 
spot on earth, was any more beautiful, than right about 
this Bay and Island, or had Greece any more pictur- 
esque town, than old Amboy,” said the professor, and 
he pointed me to a chair, next to Maud. 

“ The only difference, professor,” I replied, “ is that 
the Greeks had poets in those days, to name their rivers, 
valleys, and gardens, and sing of them. Greece was a 
creator of poets, philosophers, and artists. The animal 
man was kept under. A few pomegranates, and a hand- 
ful of grapes, sufficed their simple wants, and they were 
no weaklings either. But this was in their early days, 
their early history, when men, sought the highest ideals, 


88 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


and they produced their best work. Later the Romans 
came among them and they grew corrupt, they lost their 
simplicity, the animal became dominant, and they went 
down. They were pagan, of course, and had no God to 
worship but the gods of their own making.” 

“ If we just had a poet among us, to put this scene 
and group of fair maidens, and brave men, into verse, 
and song, we might go down to posterity, in the classics 
of our own country,” said Clarise, looking shyly at me. 

“ Perhaps Mr. Osgood might see something to stir his 
imagination to effort,” said Jeanette, with a quizzical 
smile in my direction. 

“ There Beverly is the gauntlet, thrown down to you. 
You are the only man in this company, who can sing of 
it, unless the professor, can bring some classic lore to 
bear upon it,” rejoined Bertram, with a merry laugh, as 
he looked at the professor, but the professor himself, 
seemed to be more the instigator of the laugh, than his 
own remark. For he stood at the head, of the table, 
watching Bertram, with the most peculiar expression 
upon his face, it was so humorous his eyes fairly danced, 
and his features twitched as he replied, “ My poetic 
genius is still in embryo, I must wait until it develops.” 
And looking up I saw a pair of lovely eyes, blue like 
the purple blue of the night sky, gazing at me, then she 
veiled them with their long dark lashes. 

The professor uncorked one of the bottles of claret 
which stood upon the table, and poured it into three 
glasses, that were filled with crushed ice, and passed 
one to me and one to Bertram, the other was for him- 
self. “ Boys,” he said, “ I like a little sugar in mine,” 
and he handed the sugar bowl to me, I did the same, 
and it made a delicious drink. 

Clarise then passed around crispy English crackers, 
also oatmeal and graham crackers, which no country 
can surpass us in making. Also luscious Lawton black- 
berries. The girls filled their glasses from a pitcher 
filled with the morning’s sweet milk. I would have 
enjoyed a glass of the milk, but know that it doesn’t 
do to mix drinks ; the milk would have harmonized 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE, 89 

with the crackers and fruit, but the milk and claret 
would have had a fight. While the lunch was simple it 
was delicious, in its delicacy food fit for the gods. As 
we laughed, and chatted, Maud dropped her cold for- 
mality which gave her a touch of hardness. She made 
herself more than usually interesting, and with her fine 
manner and air of high breeding, which was rather 
pleasing to me, than otherwise, she became quite charm- 
ing 

We were here interrupted by a visitor, a big Maltese 
tomcat, who jumped up into Clarise’s lap, and when 
safely curled down in his mistress’s arms, he began such 
a purring, purling, and gurgling, as was never heard. 
He looked all around at the company, nodding his head, 
and blinking his eyes at each one of us. In a few mo- 
ments Jeanette with a shower of pet names, rose up 
leaned over and picked him up in her arms, cuddled 
him up to her bosom, and he purred and rubbed his 
face affectionately against her neck. They were no 
strangers to each other, and she called him her hand- 
some “ Duke,” and he looked fully conscious of the fact. 
His name was in no sense a misnomer, for royalty 
stamped all his bearing. He was the handsomest cat, I 
ever saw. He was very large, and his coat was a dark 
purplish gray, and like satin in its lustre. His two fore 
feet were white, and he had a white spot as large as 
one’s hand for a breast-plate. His eyes looked like 
large violet pansies, tinged with gold, and the expression 
of his face was really beautiful, with its long slender 
aristocratic snout, and long gray whiskers. All which 
went to prove the effect of good blood, and good breed- 
ing in animals, and why not in human beings as well 
He wore about his neck a narrow silver collar, fastened 
with a small padlock. 

Duke was to the manner born, he was a Maltese of the 
best blood, his mother had been in the family, eleven 
years. She was a pet, of Mrs. Cline’s, the old cat, dying 
three month’s after her mistress, and when his lordship 
Duke, was but six weeks old. Clarise took the kitten 
under her wing, so we see the result of her training, in 
the royal animal before us. 


90 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


“ You should see Duke, when he is in one of his play- 
ful moods,” said Clarise, “ and wants to rid himself of 
his collar. If father and myself, happen to be sitting in 
the hall or library talking or reading, and there is no 
one else about. He comes in, lays flat on his back on 
the floor, and begins by taking his two fore feet, and 
works away, trpng to get his collar, over his head. 
When his fore feet, are pretty well tired out, he takes 
his hind feet, and away he works, he looks so funny, like 
a big fur ball, with two feet and a head, and the feet, 
just going it. Father and I nearly kill ourselves laughing. 
Then he will jump up on his feet, put his forehead to 
the floor, and work with his two fore feet, until off the 
collar comes. 

“ Then such a racing up and down the floor, through 
the hall, the parlor, the dining-room, and back again to 
where we are sitting, when he gives a leap almost as 
high, as our heads, and away with him, through the 
house, again like mad, then back again, another leap, 
and off with him. When he is good and tired, he comes 
walking in to us as stately and demure, looking up into 
our faces, as solemn as an owl, as much as to say, what 
tickles you so, while father nearly goes into hysterics 
from laughing. Then he curls himself down at my feet. 
Father and myself have come to the conclusion, that he 
does it for our amusement, and to have a good frolic, 
himself. An hour or two later, he will without a word, 
or a motion of resistance, allow me to put on his collar, 
and he will keep it on for nearly two or three days, be- 
fore another outbreak.” 

“ But the strange part of it is,” said the professor, 
“ that he is never known to indulge in these perform- 
ances, only when he finds Clarise and myself alone. No 
not even before Jeanette and Maud, who are almost as 
familiar to him as Clarise and myself. Not even before 
Jeanette, who pets him, and loves him as much as we 
do.” 

“ I would like so much to see Duke in one of those 
acrobatic feats, as you say, Miss Cline, it must be so 
funny,” I answered, leaning over and patting him on 
the head, which he did not seem to take to kindly. I 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 9 1 


patted him again, calling him a beauty, but he resented 
it by making a leap out of Jeanette’s arms, over the 
middle of the table, and landed on the corner where the 
professor was seated. Duke, sat bolt upright, his tail 
looking like a snake, as he switched it to and fro. We 
all laughed heartily. 

Then there came from the other end of the orchard a 
man who was presumably the gardener. He was fol- 
lowed by two lovely dogs, of the shepherd species, the 
dogs, when they saw the party under the trees, came 
running up bounding and leaping, about the professor 
and Clarise. One of the dog’s name was Gipp, the other 
Tasso. Tasso was a large dog a seal brown in color, 
Gipp, was a black and white. Duke looked down from 
his place on the corner of the table, with great com- 
posure upon the antics of the dogs, but while he seemed 
to view with indifference their manifestations of affec- 
tion, his tail was on the defensive, it looked like a lion’s 
and kept up a great switching, 

Jeanette loved cats, and dogs, and pets of all sorts, 
and it was not but a few moments before she was ofE 
with Gipp and Tasso, her tall slim form, gliding in and 
out among the trees, playing hide and go seek. 

So we all chatted and laughed, and gaily the bright 
hours fled. The day was still young, so were we, the 
birds sang for us, the leaves of the trees rustled, and 
their branches bent and swayed in the gentle breeze, 
and sung for me a sweet strange melody, such as I never 
before heard, but it made me glad, and I lived anew. 
The flowers bloom seemed lovelier and more radiant, 
and their perfume more fragrant and nature was all 
color, and harmony. The dogs, cats, rabbits, cows and 
calves, and little children, all gamboled and played, and 
everything seemed responsive to the glad and joyous 
morning. 

On our way back to the house, Bertram left Clarise 
to me, and he walked ahead with the professor, Jeanette 
and Maud, following behind with the dogs. Duke had 
disappeared somewhere getting out of the way of Gipp 
and Tasso. Clarise informed me although the dogs 
would not hurt him, knowing him to be her pet, and 


92 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


while Duke would stand his ground with any dog, espe- 
cially a strange one, yet he would steal away to her 
room, or some other part of the house, whenever they 
were around and would not show himself, until they 
were gone. 

As we walked and conversed I saw more of the gra- 
ciousness, serenity, and intellect of this lovely girl. 
From her childhood up she had been her father’s pupil. 
He had educated her in books, but her mother who was 
a very religious woman, took charge of her moral and 
spiritual training. So I found a mind stored like a ship 
with a cargo of precious freight, a soul, pure as crystal, 
without blot or blemish, capable of the highest heights, 
and deepest depths, and these things fashioned her face, 
and form, until she was good to look upon. And oh, 
my heart, be still, what new thing is this, which has 
taken possession of you ! How it beat and leaped, and 
thumped, sending the hot blood seething to my temples. 
Had I come so far to meet the vision that had floated 
through my brain from early boyhood, the ideal of my 
older youth, to And her perhaps pledged to another. 
Still as we lingered in our pace she was not indifferent 
to me. She found that indefinable something in me 
which responded to the same in her, mind speaking to 
mind, and soul to soul, the spirit that needs no utter- 
ance. She loved Bertram, but she had that touch of 
sympathy for me which ripens into a high, and great 
friendship, that women of her lofty mind have been 
known to entertain for men, a pure and sisterly affec- 
tion, and I felt though we would part, we would never 
again be strangers to each other. 

As we all gathered upon the porch, Bertram looked at 
his watch. It was after eleven, time to leave and reach 
home before the dead heat of the day. So we took out 
departure. Clarise and her father were to dine at An- 
lace in the evening, and after dinner, we were to go for 
a sail on the Bay. Mr. Arlington kept no yacht, but an 
old sailor, a sea captain, kept a fine one, in which he 
took pleasure parties for an outing every morning and 
evening. 

When we reached Anlace, we found Mrs. Leroy John- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY AWAKE. 93 


athan, and Oswald de Conte, sitting in the shade on the 
west piazza. She must have taken advantage of our 
absence to send for him, to enjoy an hour or two of his 
society alone. When Jeanette saw him, there came over 
her face a look of astonishment, for he hardly ever came 
to Anlace in the morning, generally making his appear- 
ance there about half past four or five in the afternoon, 
and staying for dinner, and through the evening. But 
neither Mrs. Leroy’s face, or Oswald’s, expressed plea- 
sure of each other’s society. 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE BALL AT ANLACE. 

I had been nearly six weeks at Anlace, and as I look 
back now they were the pleasantest, the most enjoyable, 
as well as the most instructive of my life. Every day 
there were new faces to be seen, and new people to meet 
at lunch, and at dinner. They were generally New 
Yorkers, spending the summer months at their country 
homes upon the Hudson, or their cottages ^t Long 
Branch, Saratoga, or Newport, or other seaside resorts. 
Once in a while there was a distinguished foreigner or 
two. 

Often the whole Arlington family, including myself, 
Mrs. Leroy, De Coute and Clarise, would make trips to 
Manhattan Beach, Long Branch, Saratoga, Newport, 
sometimes at these places we would lunch with friends. 
Bertram and myself spent some delightful days together 
in New York City, winding up with a nice little dinner 
at one of the best restaurants. After dinner, we would 
go to hear one of the light operas upon the roof garden. 
Generally there was a favorite singer of Bertram’s in the 
leading role. 

Bertram Arlington was in no sense a Bohemian. He 


94 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


could not adapt himself to the light and shade of common 
life. His sympathies, if he had any in that direction,, 
had never been touched, or awakened to see in individ- 
ual character, or its peculiarities, the pathos and poetry 
of the great human toilers. Still he was a dear fellow, 
an enjoyable chum, and I loved him. Big, generous 
and manly. He had weaknesses, one especially, and if 
not checked, would become his besetting sin ; it was the 
wine cup. 

But the most enjoyable time of all was the evenings 
spent at the professor’s cottage, he still kept to the old 
fashioned dinner hour of noon, but what the professor 
and his daughter called tea, which we were more often 
bidden to, (I think Jeanette and Bertram — for Maud sel- 
dom accompanied us) enjoyed these teas, more than the 
sumptuous dinners, with fashionable guests, at their 
father’s large mansion. They threw off all reserve 
and formality, and became more easy and natural, 
warm, kindly, and interesting. We were served by a 
clean wholesome looking bright faced maid, of twenty- 
three or four years, country born, and country bred. She 
was a relief to me from the stiff and stark gimlet eyed, 
English butlers at Anlace. When I looked at her trip- 
ping about the table, I breathed more freely, and wanted 
to spread out the palms of my hands and fingers, from 
the sense of comfort I felt. 

I knew a little child, a boy of four years, who, whenever 
he liked any particular thing, particularly well, that he 
happened to be eating, would lay down his spoon, spread 
out the palms of his fat dimpled hands, flat upon the 
table, with his thumbs sticking straight out, and chew 
away, in perfect delight until it was time to take another 
mouthful. 

And there was Clarise, sitting at the foot, in her blue 
or white dress, her gold-brown hair, bound in a Grecian 
knot at the back of her neck, its ripples clustering on the 
blue veined forehead, with its marked thoughtfulness. 
Surely the blood of the ancient classic Greeks mingled 
in the veins of this young American girl. And Clarise ’s 
father, how supremely happy he looked at these little 
repasts, seated at the head of the table, his eyes snapping 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 95 


with sly humor, as he gave out bits of delicate speech, 
sparkling with wit, and as clear cut as gems. And he 
had such a charming way of adapting himself to young 
men, to their fancies, foibles, and conceits. Great scholar, 
as he was, he was as free as a child from pedantry. I 
have observed that all truly great and noble men are 
childlike. This man of learning was as simple as a little 
child in his ways. While at college, we all loved him, 
but these evenings spent in his home, showed me another 
side to his character; gave me a glimpse into the inner 
self of the man. It was another lesson in human studies, 
that here and there, nature does her work complete. 

After supper, we generally took ourselves to the front 
porch for a while. Here we would be joined by Duke, 
and the dogs Gipp and Tasso. During the evening, our 
amusements became varied; sometimes we would take a 
sail on the Bay, then again when -the wind blew too cool, 
and kept us in the house, we would play a game of whist 
in the library. Whist was the professor’s game at cards. 
In these visits, I was often thrown for half an hour at a 
time alone with Clarise. And every time we met, re- 
vealed to me some new charm of hers, some delicate 
thoughtfulness for others. Sometimes it would be for 
Jeanette, then for Bertram, or myself, but more often for 
her father. But the storehouse, the treasure-trove, the 
most beautiful of all was her mind. 

And I loved her more and more as the days went by, 
but I guarded well my secret. She never guessed, nor 
did I betray to Bertram or Jeanette, by look, word, or 
act, any symptom of this strange sweet thing that had 
taken up its abode in my heart, that changed me from 
a dreaming irresponsible boy, to a man. My love for 
Clarise was not with me as most young men’s first love, 
a mad and burning passion. Oh, no, no, it came unasked, 
unheeded, born in the fullness of its purity, depth and 
sweetness. It had come to stay. 

My six weeks at Anlace had flown as if on wings, and 
on this night, was to be the great ball, given as a send- 
off to Jeanette’s wedding, and I was to leave for home 
in a few days. Men had come from New York, to arrange 
the house, and stretch tarpaulin over the carpets an^ 


96 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


floors to protect them. Also to decorate the grounds, 
and erect the dancing tent. It did not take long to do 
this, for everything belonging to the tent, came with it 
already made from a house in New York, which fur- 
nished these things. And when the floor was laid, and 
the florists and decorators finished their work, it looked 
as if the hand ofi some magician had brought forth out 
of the air, a ball-room of fairy splendor. 

After dinner, which was hurried through with, I went 
to my room to dress. It was then about a quarter to 
eight, I had an hour and a half in which to make my toi- 
let, half after nine or ten, would be time enough to show 
myself in the drawing-room. I felt that I was not so 
well prepared in the way of dress suits, for an affair of 
this kind, a ball, where the spick and span, and choice of 
all New York swelldom was to gather. I had provided 
myself with a good wardrobe before leaving home, and 
had but one black broadcloth suit, one my tailor said. Was 
not to be beat for elegance, fit, and style, in London or 
Paris, or even in New York (and charged me accord- 
ingly). But I had no idea I would have any use for it, 
as I was not a society man. 

About ten o’clock I left my room and went downstairs. 
I had much trouble in making my way, they were so 
crowded with people coming up and going down. But 
what a scene of dazzling brilliance met my eyes, as I 
came to the lower landing, and when I reached the grand 
salon, where Mrs. Arlington, with Maud, Jeanette and Mrs. 
Leroy Johnathan stood, in the midst of light strains of 
music, the color and perfume of flowers ; certainly one of 
Julius Caesar’s court balls, could not have rivaled it in 
splendor. Mrs. Arlington wore a gown of steel-blue satin, 
and pale gold,covered with black lace, worth a king’s ran- 
som. White andjredroseslooped up the lace here and there, 
and a large bunch of the same roses was worn to the right, 
low)on the corsage. Long white gloves were drawn up oVer 
her bare arms, almost meeting the short puffed sleeve. 
In her hand, she carried a pearl and point -lace fan, and 
encircling her round alabaster throat, was a necklace of 
diamonds, as large as marrowfat peas. They gleamed 
and scintillated^ catching all the colors of the room^ in 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE, 97 


their pure white light, and with every heave and sigh of 
her bosom, they threw it out again in thousands of re- 
flected tints and hues. She looked very handsome, and 
younger by ten years. Not a gray hair was to be seen, 
indeed there was no difference to-night, between its color 
and her daughter Maud’s beautiful chestnut brown. 

At her right stood Jeanette, head and shoulders taller, 
and oh, what a picture for my eyes, my heart leaped to 
my throat at sight of her, and my pen grows feeble now 
in trying to portray to the reader the unusual beauty of 
this queenly girl. The strange effect the beauty of this 
girl had upon me, was beyond my power to analyze. 
When my eyes, would chance to rest upon her, a thrill of 
pleasure and delight would pass through my mind, and 
vibrate through every fibre of my body, my admiration 
for her being more of the intellect, than the senses. 

Her robe was of some rich silken stuff, the color a pale 
sea green of such tints as Harrison catches,inhis sea> waves, 
when the sun shows half its face, in lorg rifts of silvery 
clouds. Over this was worn white chiffon, or silken 
gauze. I cannot tell how it was draped, some artist hand 
must have done that, but it began at the shouldens of ftie 
low bodice, in puffs and ruffles, until it met the waist- 
line, then swathed the hips, and was caught here and 
there in folds in front ; then wound about the back, and 
fell away again, in full drapery, over the long sweep- 
ing train of the silk, to the hem. It was just the 
gown for her tall, slim, agile body, with its willowy, 
wildering grace. Her abundant and lustrous black hair, 
was coiled high on top of her head, and fastened by a 
golden comb, set with jewels, and lay in short curls on 
her low broad forehead, with its dark straight brows. 
Her strangely beautiful violet-gray eyes, with their long 
black lashes, seemed to laugh out at me, as I presented 
myvSelf before her mother, nerself, and the others. So 
did her mouth smile, like her eyes, and her small pearly 
teeth, made a contrast to her yellow skin. In her ears, 
she wore rings, of pearls and diamonds, and about her 
slender throat was wound string after string of great 
pearls, with a diamond, as big as a hazelnut clasping each 
string. Nestling low upon her bosom, was a mass oi 


98 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


red roses, and her fan was carved ivory and wldte satin, 
studded with pearls. 

Beside her, stood her sister Maud, looking like a blush 
rose, in a robe of pale pink silk and white gauze. Mrs. 
Leroy Johnathan stood to Mrs. Arlington’s left. While 
Jeanette’s attire in every tint and tone, every fold and 
loop, was the expression of herself, of intellect, art and 
poetry, Mrs. Leroy’s, was the very opposite in feeling. 
She stood a dazzling figure, the very embodiment of the 
sensuous; art, she had, but it was subject to the senses. 
Her gown was white, a rich cream brocaded satin, made 
very low, and tight fitting. Nowhere about me was to 
be seen a greater display of neck, shoulders, and bosom. 
They were not fleshy but white as alabaster, and exquis- 
itely moulded, their lines and curves suggesting those of 
the snake. 

Covering the bodice of her dress, was rare and costly 
lace, which fell down over the skirt and long train, like 
the crusted foam of sea waves. A piece of the lace, 
made a sleeve, which was but a strap, over the shoulders, 
this was caught in the centre with stones as pure as the 
blue water of Lake Ontario, when a cloudless June sky 
hangs low over its surface, and its ripples send out a 
thousand hued lights. Her hair wore a brighter hue of 
Titian gold to-night, and was drawn up and tied in a 
Grecian knot, at the nape of her neck, with fluffy curls 
on her forehead. Her brows were tinted dark, so were 
her eyelashes, giving her eyes an amorous expression. 
Her cheeks had the faintest tinge of rose, and her lips 
a natural touch of red. The tout-ensemble of her whole 
make-up, was a study to <draw the masculine eye, and to 
appeal to the sensual in man. 

She was one of those women whom Tolstoi mentions 
in his “ Kreutzer Sonata,” that man, on beholding her 
wants to demand police intervention, to remove the 
dangerous thing. When I bowed before her, her 
eyes scanned me coldly from the top of my head to the 
toe of my patent leather shoe. But I did not flinch, I 
knew while my clothes were not so ultra-fashionable as 
some men present, they were elegant, and I was clad 
befitting a gentleman, and the occasion, Mr, Leroy 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 99 

Johnathan was in full evening dress. He stood behind 
his wife, speaking to Mr. Arlington, who looked big, 
handsome, and plethoric, one of the world’s full men. 

Then I looked about me for Bertram, for the guests 
were crowding in, and beginning to throng the stairs, 
halls, library and grand salon. I found him in the re- 
ception hall, standing near the door that led into the din- 
ing-room, which was not far from the foot of the wind- 
ing stairway. He was clad in all the regalia of full even- 
ing dress and looked handsomer than I ever saw him. 
He rose tall and straight as a Corinthian column, and 
towered over the heads of nearly all the men present. 

“ Beverly,” he said, after we had stood a few moments 
chatting, “have you been to the dancing tent ?” 

“ No, I have just come from paying my devoirs to your 
mother and sisters, and the other ladies.” I had but fin- 
ished my sentence, when I saw Professor Cline and his 
daughter, turn up the lower landing of the stairway. 
Bertram stepped over to meet them, for it was Clarise 
and her father he was waiting for. Oh, fair Clarise, to 
give the reader any idea of your lovliness on this night, 
is beyond my feeble powers. All I can write of is that your 
dress was white, and of some silken shimmering stuff, 
the back of the iDodice made high in the neck, and fold 
after fold lapped over the bosom, in surplice fashion. 
A bunch of hothouse violets nestled to one side of the 
corsage, contrasting with the milky whiteness of her slen- 
der throat. Long silken cream gloves, were drawn up 
over the elbows, to meet the short sleeves. Pier hair 
was twisted in a Grecian knot high on top of her head, 
while a fillet of gold clasped the curls on her blue- veined 
brow. She stood out from that rich attired and gay 
throng, conspicuous in her simplicity of dress, her 
beauty, and that indefinable charm which few possess. 
iOh, fair Clarise, sweetest, purest, and dearest of girls, 
^it is women like you, that awaken all that is best and 
J highest and manly in us, and stir them to achievement, 
and make us blush that we ever harbored one impure 
thought of your sex. 

She greeted me cordially, and gave Bertram her hand, 
he gallantly bent over it, held it to his lips, and imprinted 


100 


BEVERLY OSGOOD J 


a kiss upon it. She then took her father’s arm, Bertram 
walked by her side, and I by the professor’s, through 
the hall, and as far as the door of the grand salon, where 
they went in to pay their respects to Mrs. Arlington, and 
where Clarise lingered to chat with Maud and Jeanette. 

I made my way back through the crowd to the hall, 
that ran east and west across the house. The east door 
led into the ballroom tent. As I stood a second or two 
on the steps, I was amazed as well as charmed, with the 
beauty, brilliance, and splendor of the scene. The tent 
was very large, and the floor was made of polished oak 
boards, and perfect in their joining and smoothness. The 
walls were hung with a silken brocaded bunting of paje 
canary. Flowers, plants, and palms, and rare exotics, 
stood about in profusion, with here and there pieces of 
statuary in their midst. Musicians in full evening dress 
played upon harps, violins, and bass viols. 

It made one think of a grand ball in a king’s palace, 
and of Byron’s lines in his “ Waterloo “ There was a 
sound of revelry by night, and fair women, and brave 
men, looked love into eyes which spake again, and all 
went merry as a marriage bell.” I turned away from 
the ’door, passed through the hall and the crowd, and out 
to the front piazza. The night was lovely, one of those 
cool delicious northern September nights, when the heav- 
ens are radiant, with starlight, when nearly all the planets 
are in sight, and seemed to have dispatched to one an- 
other to meet at certain points of the firmament, and are 
all trying to outshine one another in brightness and 
glory. The park looked like an enchanted forest, where 
fairies, in the shape of men and women, in shining robes 
of different colors and hues, glided in and out through 
the trees, which soughed and sighed above their heads, 
The air was laden with the hum and murmur of voices, 
and the strains of music. And the sweet winds caught 
them up, mingled them together, changed them to har- 
monies of dulcet notes, sounds, and melodies, and sang 
them in the ears of lovers. 

I went back again to the house, intending to go with 
my friends, to the ballroom. Mrs. Arlington and her 
daughters, had left their places in the grand salon. When 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


lOI 


I reached the long hall, Bertram, Clarise, Maud, Jea- 
nette, Oswald de Conte and Mrs. Leroy Johnathan were 
just leaving the reception hall, on the way to the dancing 
tent, I followed after them out the door, and down the 
steps. The floor-manager was just forming sets for a 
quadrille. I rarely ever danced ; I had gone for a win- 
ter or two, to Professor Soupan’s Dancing Academy, 
which gave me some idea of going through the flgures. 
I took Maud out for the first dance, Bertram, Clarise; 
Oswald de Coute, Jeanette, and Mrs. Leroy had her hus- 
band for a partner, which made up the set. Oswald de 
Coute was a perfect dancer, he was grace itself, and he 
looked very handsome on this evening; had he been heir to 
a dukedom, his manner, bearing and aristocratic appear- 
ance could not have been improved. Jeanette seemed 
to float through the flgures, Oswald de Coute was no 
match for her in grace. Maud, also danced well. Mrs. 
Leroy’s dancing was like everything else she did, studied. 
Bertram was a good dancer. Mr. Leroy, like myself, 
floundered through some way, without blundering. 

After the quadrille was finished, there were other 
young men who claimed the society of the ladies, for 
other dances, and I took myself to a retired nook, where 
I had a splendid view of the crowd, which represented 
the wealth, fashion, and blue blood of New York City. 
The young girls were lovely, all young girls are, even 
when plain in face, but when dressed for a ball, sur- 
rounded by flowers, music, and the dazzling lights, they 
are something enchanting. As for the dressing of the 
women, nowhere in the whole world, not even in Paris, 
could there be found more beautiful creations. Not one 
dowdy looking woman was to be seen in the whole as- 
sembly. But what struck me so forcibly was the hand- 
some mature women, from the fresh rounded beauty of 
the woman of thirty (for she is never so handsome as 
at that age), up to the woman forty-five, and fifty. It 
was not so much beauty of face, it was only here and 
there. I saw a really beautiful face, in refinement of fea- 
ture and expression, or an intellectual cast of counte- 
nance. But they mostly all had good physiques, and had 
much to build upon. 


102 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


Like the Greeks, it looked as if they made their bodies 
their special care. While their aim was in a sense beauty, 
yet unlike the Greeks, who were pagan, their aim was 
to master the passions, to live simply, and what the Chris- 
tian seeks in the spiritual, they knowing no God, but 
those made by hands, sought the highest in the intellect, 
in music, and art. But here was wealth, ease, luxury, 
and the pleasures of life, the sensual, refined to the sen- 
suous, until it becomes more dangerous, and more death- 
dealing to the soul and the spiritual, which is life. Sense 
stamped their faces, their bodies and every movement. 
Their rich gowns of brocades and satin, rare and costly 
laces, and jewels which kings and queens only revel in, 
these women wore as lavishly and profusely, upon their 
necks and arms, as if they were glass beads strung upon 
strings. 

I was enjoying these reflections when Bertram came 
up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. “ What 
an unsocial fellow you are, Beverly, better go up to the 
Catskills, and build yourself a hut, and turn hermit at 
once. I have been hunting for you the last half hour. 
I want to introduce you to some of the men and ladies 
of our set. There are some lovely girls, and charming 
married women, also a few widows who make the young 
bachelors, as well as the older ones, feel when in their 
society, that they want to carry them off then and there, 
and marry them. Come along and I will present you, 
and you must take some of the girls out to dance.” 

“ All right, old fellow, but you mistake me when you 
say I am unsocial. There is nothing I enjoy more than 
society, but I like to enjoy it in my own way. Like the 
religionist, I am in the world, but not of it.” 

“ Judging from the expression of you face, when I 
came upon you, you were of the world, but not in it,” 
returned Bertram, with a hearty laugh. 

“ Say, old fellow, I don’t care about being presented 
in person, to those people you speak of, but if you can 
spare me an hour or so from your ladies, and sit here be- 
side me in this corner (this is a splendid place to see, 
and not be seen) , we will have a full view of the dancers, 
and everybody coming in and going out. You will tell 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. iOj 

me who they are, and something of their personal his- 
tory, I want to see if I am right, in my observations and 
impressions. 

“ By George, Beverly, what a conundrum you are 
now I am nothing of a gossip, I hate a man-gossip, but 
of course a fellow with a mother and two sisters in 
society, and having large connections, hears lots of 
things. And I myself, am acquainted with so many 
young men, and older ones too, and let me say here, the 
young men don’t begin to keep pace with the older men. 
They make more noise, and go on more frolics, but their 
morals are better. Besides they have no wife to deceive, 
or family of children to hurt. Ah, here come the De 
Arms, by George, just the ones. You see that couple, 
just entered T* 

“ Yes,” I answered, as my eyes rested on a vision in 
rich brocade a pale canary color, covered with lace, which 
seemed woven from the silken web of the spider’s loom. 
She was a tall, magnificent looking blonde, her arms, 
neck and shoulders were superb, and towered in marble 
whiteness avv^ay above the bodice of her dress, and shone 
resplendent with jev/els. She was very handsome; her 
hair was like burnished gold, her eyes, large, blue and 
amorous in expression. Her face and form had the 
voluptuous swelling curves which attract men of the 
world. She leaned upon the arm of a man of over forty 
years of age, he was what is called good-looking, rather 
than handsome. 

“ They have been married but six months,” resumed 
Bertram, fixing himself in a more comfortable posi- 
tion. 

“ Oh, they are man and wife, was she a widow, when 
married ?” I asked, wondering how it happened if she 
were not a widow, that a woman of her kind of beauty, 
and position in the world, came to be thirty and over be- 
fore being married. 

“Yes,” replied Bertram, “the kind the courts make. 
The whole affair came out in the newspapers, they get 
hold of everything nowadays, and the more prominent 
the parties, the more the scandal is aired, all over the 
land. The other wife, and her two children, have gone 


104 


BEVERLY OSGOOD * 


home to the paternal roof. If she were the kind of woman 
that would marry again, it would not be so hard, for she 
has the law on her side. She got the divorce, she is a 
strict Roman Catholic and does not believe in marry- 
ing again.” 

“ I thought that adultery was the only ground a divorce 
was granted unto either husband or wife, in the State of 
New York,” I said. 

“ The only ground.” 

“ Had she a husband ?” 

“ Oh, yes, he was the one that first kicked up the rum- 
pus, it was pot calling kettle black. She was bad enough, 
but not half as bad as he, for when he married her, she 
was a pure girl, and he had a domicile up town, which 
he still retained, after he took to wife the beautiful F anny 
Foster, the daughter of old John Foster, rich as a Jew.” 

“ And how came she here to-night, after this escapade, 
this destroying of the peace of homes, this stealing of 
husband, and the husband stealing of the wife. This 
slaughtering of the sixth and seventh commandments. I 
should think it would have lost both of them their place 
in society.” 

“ I think myself, it is bad business; these things make 
men and women, even those whose morals won’t bear 
inspection, feel mean. But the law of the land steps in 
and rights things; it’s the thick blanket we resort to, to 
cover our moral sores.” 

“ But my dear Bertram, here is a man, with a wife and 
children. The law of the land thrusts his wife and chil- 
dren into the street, you might say would have, if she 
did not have a home to go to, and relieves her husband 
of any responsibility of the care and support of his chil- 
dren, and also of the crime committed against his wife, 
and the community he lives in. You say the law of the 
State of New York gave the divorce to her, yet it permits 
him to marry again. You see what a farce the law of 
the land is in regard to marriage, and things less sacred, 
how it trifles with the family, which is the very founda- 
tion and rock of the State. And what a condition of 
morals must your society have, that condones the sin of 
this man and woman.” 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 10$ 

“ By George, Beverly, I have never looked at it from 
your standpoint before, and I don’t think mother did 
either, although she is pretty strict, and what we call in 
these loose times, a little Puritanical. But she is not to 
blame so much for the De Arms being here. Mrs. Fos- 
ter, Fanny’s mother, is an old friend and schoolmate of 
mother’s. She felt terribly over the whole business, and 
the part her daughter played in it, and her expulsion 
from society, for it is two years since the affair was first 
aired in the papers. She came to mother a few weeks 
ago, and got down on her knees, and begged her with 
tears in her eyes, for an invitation to the ball to-night 
for Fanny. Saying if she, mother, would recognize her 
Fanny, and she would be seen here to-night, she thought 
it would redeem her daughter in the eyes of the world, 
and restore her to her former place in society. They 
are very rich, and can’t bear to be excluded, and of 
course wealth counts. Mother did send her an invita- 
tion, but depended on Fanny’s good sense not to come. 
But she is here, and judging from her looks and the way 
she carries herself, is determined to brave it out. 

“ He does not put on such a bold front. Men will do 
mean things, but they are more of moral cowards than 
women. While there are others here who are just as 
bad in other ways as the De Arms, you watch and you 
will see that the guests are not flocking about them, and 
Fanny and her new husband will find themselves treated 
to the cold shoulder. This feeling comes partially from 
the great sympathy for his deserted wife. Mother says 
she is a lovely woman, beautiful in person and charac- 
ter, and belongs to an old and aristocratic family. I be- 
lieve with you, Beverly, the whole business is not only 
distressing, but disgusting. Come, we had better go and 
find the girls, then go and have some supper, I am deu- 
cedly hungry.” 

Just then the music ceased, and as we made our way 
out through the throng, we came upon Maud and a 
young Mr. Farish, her partner in the dance just finished. 
“ Come, Maud, we are going in to supper, as soon as we 
find the others,” said Bertram. A little further on we 


io6 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


bumped up against Jeanette and Oswald de Coute. 
“ Have you seen Clarise ?” Bertram inquired. 

“ Yes,” she answ^ered, “ she is over there to your left. 
Clarence Hilton, the artist, has not left her a moment, 
but has danced three dances in succession with her. 
You had better not go meandering off with Mr. Osgood, 
or some of these young men will be carrying her away.” 

“ I am going to take her captive now, if a dozen Clar- 
ence Hiltons stand by with drawn swords,” said Bertram, 
sauntering off, while we remained where we were, until 
he returned. And I in my secret soul, envied Clarence 
Hilton, who ever he was. He was not bound by friend- 
ship to the man who she loved, therefore could steal an 
hour or two of her society, without any qualms of con- 
science. 

As I stood conversing with Maud, my eyes chanced 
to rest upon Mrs. Leroy Johnathan, who was standing 
to my right, with three or four young men dallying about 
her. She was in her glory, the acme of her ambition. 
Her face was all animation, her eyes shone, and her 
white teeth gleamed, as she laughed and chatted, and 
with every waft of her fan, exhaled perfume, and with 
every undulating move of her body, the jewels flashed 
and scintillated upon her ivory neck, shoulders and bosom. 
Mr. Leroy Johnathan was not in sight, I suppose off with 
Mr. Arlington, and some of the elderly men, believing 
his honor and her own, perfectly safe in her keeping. 
In a few moments Bertram came back with Clarise lean- 
ing on his arm, looking as pleased and happy as a little 
child. 

“ I wondered where you all went to, even father dis- 
appeared and I was left entirely to the gentlemen. I 
felt perfectly helpless, I cannot manage to make myself 
agreeable to more than one at a time. I am not gifted 
ill small talk.” 

“ You will have to cultivate it. Miss Clarise,” I said, 
“it is a pleasing gift, and the best possible passport in 
the social world.” 

“ I fear I am not inclined to take the trouble; you 
don’t know how relieved I felt when I saw Bertram com- 
ing." 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 10/ 

Bertram then led the way in to supper. The supper- 
room, or the refreshment tent, as some called it, opened 
directly off the ball-room, and was almost as large, and 
as handsomely decorated. The long tables groaned un- 
der the weight of cut glass, china and silver, and were 
radiant with the color and perfume of flowers and fruit. 
Men in swallow-tail coats, white vests, white gloves and 
patent leather shoes, waited upon us. And such a bill 
of fare. There was nothing in the markets of New York, 
in the way of meats, fish, poultry, and what the best cooks 
to be had, could invent, of jellies, creams, ices, cakes 
and pastry; all to be had for the asking, also coffee, tea, 
and all kinds of wines. It made me think of Belshazar’s 
feast, when the guests saw the handwriting on the wall. 

We were a merry group, and when about half through 
we were joined by Professor Cline and Mrs. Arlington 
and her husband, Mrs. Leroy Johnathan, wnth her hus- 
band, and one or two of her coterie of gentlemen I saw 
dangling about her in the ball-room. I enjoyed this 
hour and a half at table, more than all the evening. Do 
not think, dear reader, that the source of my enjoyment 
came from having so many good things at my command. 
I am no epicure, I am young, healthy and strong. I like 
a good square meal, and I enjoy it too, as well as any 
man, but I eat to live, I do not live to eat. Oh, no, it 
was not the tempting viands, they played their part, but 
the charming society, the lovely girls, and handsome 
women, and the men, grouped about me, the expression 
of kindness and affection upon their faces. The de- 
lightful chit-chat, the epigrams, flashes of wit, which 
came so unexpectedly, and was so exceedingly pleasant 
and exhilarating. When finished, we went back to the 
ball-room, and I claimed Jeanette for a partner in the 
dance then forming. The next dance was with a bright 
petite blonde, after that, to my great relief, some other 
young man claimed her for the follownng. 

Feelii'ig a little tired, I made my way through the 
throng to the large door that led into the park. There 
were couples sitting here and there, under the trees. I 
walked about for some time, going as far down as the 
gate, which opened to the road, then I retraced my steps, 


loS BEVERLY OSGOOD J 

came back to the house, and crossed to the west side. 
Here stood the summer house, and back of it a long 
grape arbor; the summer house was shaded by two great 
elm trees, under these trees were seats the same as all 
the trees near the house. I threw myself into one of 
these seats, but before doing so I looked into the sum- 
mer house, there was no one there, nor did I see any one 
on this side of the grounds, as the guests hovered about 
the ball-room. I had not been long there and was sitting 
with my back leaning against the trunk of the tree, that 
stood at one angle of the summer house, with my legs 
stretehed upon the beneh, when I saw a eouple of lovers, 
as I supposed them to be, eoming slowly along through 
the trees. I watched them as they came nearer, once 
they stopped and seemed to be in earnest conversation, 
then started on again. As they drew closer, they seemed 
to be either making for the summer house, or the trees, 
where I lay, as the spot was quite secluded and no one 
except some member of the family, would be apt to 
know of it. 

Feeling somewhat irritated at the idea of being mo- 
lested in my retreat, I gathered myself up and moved 
farther behind the summer house, putting the trunk of 
the tree between myself and the couple. But as I was 
moving, the couple had come quite near, and I heard 
their voices, and to my unspeakable surprise and horror, 
it was Oswald de Coute and Mrs. Leroy Johnathan. 
“Come,” he said, “we will go into the summer house, 
we can finish our talk there, and we shall not be so apt 
to be overheard.” They entered the house, and seated 
themselves in a corner at the back, the very spot my 
head leaned against on the outside, and this is what I 
heard. 

“ Now Minnie, we must settle things to-night,” began 
Oswald, in a cool pak'onizing drawl, “you will have to 
be careful, very circumspect. This is not the Swiss 
Mountains, Carlsbad, or Genoa. We must not be seen 
together so much, it will excite suspicion, you can’t ex- 
pect any attention from me, but the polite courtesy due 
from a gentleman to a married lady, until after my mar- 
riage with Jeanette.” 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. IO9 


“ Then your mind is fnlly made np to marry her this 
coming Fall,” she said, in a tearful voice, in which there 
was a mingling of intense bitterness. 

“ Minnie, what do you mean, what do you want ? I 
can’t marry you, you have a good husband, he adores 
you, and your every wish is his law. I know we have 
both played the fool, you don’t want a scandal now, it 
would be horrible, it would ruin us both, Minnie.” 

“1 was married when we first met at Genoa, I was 
but a bride of a few months, you were not so calculating 
then; it all began in a flirtation, and you know the rest. 
I never loved my husband, he was my mother’s choice, 
I was very ambitious, I liked his raoney, I had social po- 
sition, but no money to sustain it. Perhaps I would 
have learned to love him, if you had not come upon the 
scene. I am not a good woman, do not claim to be; I 
am fond of admiration and the pleasures of life ; you have 
sworn to me time and again, that you loved me as I do 
you. I have as much dread of a scandal as you, but I 
cannot bear to have another woman, and that woman, 
your wife, come between me and the man I love.” 

“ You are unreasonable, Minnie, did you think I would 
never marry, every man wants to marry, sooner or later. 
I supposed you were sensible enough to expect it.” 
There was no drawl or affectation in his voice, as he 
spoke these words, but a cold metallic irritability in its 
ring. “ It’s deucedly hard,” he continued, “for a man 
to have to speak this way to a woman he likes, but I 
have some honor left, Minnie, and I expect you to be 
sensible, and look at the thing right. And to be plain 
with you, we must stop this intriguing, and put an end 
to this damnable liason.” 

I could feel her put her hands up to her ears,to shut out 
the sound of what she considered his brutal words, then 
she covered her tace with them. “You can marry,” 
she replied, after a long pause, then I heard her rise and 
step back a pace or two, from where he was sitting, she 
took her hands from her face, and in a sort of smothered 
wail she added, “ but you do not love Jeanette Arling- 
ton, you love me.” 

I waited to hear no more, I slid from the bench to 


no 


Beverly osgood ; 


the ground, and crawled on my hands and knees into the 
grape arbor, until far enough to rise to my feet without 
being heard, and walked to the end, and came out at the 
back of the house. I walked around to the east side, 
w’hich brought me to the park. Stunned and astounded 
at what I had heard, I kept crying in my mind: “Oh, 
perfidy, sensuality, thy nam.e is man. Oh, woman, adul- 
terous woman, the Lord Christ v/as great indeed, mer- 
ciful beyond human conception, when he had pity on 
such as you. When he said to the Jews, who were ston- 
ing the adulterous woman, whom Moses in the law, com- 
manded to be stoned, “ He that be without sin, first 
cast a stone at her.” Sweet, tender Lord Christ, surely 
none but a God could have uttered such compassionate 
words. 

I hurried around by the dancing- tent, and past the 
porte-cochere, where the carriages were rapidly drivirg 
up and away again as fast as they filled. I entered the 
ball-room, it was considerably thinned. I stood looking 
about me for some of my friends, v/hen Clarence Hilton, 
the artist, came up and said he believed the Misses Ar- 
lington, with Miss Cline, had gone to the house. “ Come,” 
I said, “let us go to the supper-room, I would like a cup 
of coffee before retiring. We went to the supper-room, 
Hilton ordered champagne, I observed that most of the 
young men, and older men drank, with the exception of 
Professor Cline, and myself, and at that hour there was 
scarcely a sober man to be seen. I drank my coffee, and 
came back again to the ball-room, bid Hilton good-night, 
and went up the steps and into the hall. It w’as crowded 
with people going out and coming in, all the ladies with 
their wraps on waiting for their carriages to be called. 

I made my way through them without meeting any 
one of the Arlington family, and went up the stairs to 
my room, lighted my gas, took out my watch, looked at it, 
it was just half-past three, It v/ould soon be daybreak. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


Ill 


CHAPTER X. 

THE BREAK OF DAY. 

I pulled off my gloves, coat, and vest; also my tie, 
unfastened my collar, slipped on a light dressing gown, 
and slippers, lighted a cigar, turned the gas down, and 
threw myself into an armchair that stood by the east 
window. I was still stupefied with astonishment and 
the horror of what I heard from my retreat under the 
trees, by the summer house. Heard from the lips of 
Oswald de Coute, and Mrs. Leroy Johnathan,. I never 
dreamed that a woman holding her position in the social 
world, could stoop to such a loss of honor. It showed 
that ease, luxury, wealth, place, were in themselves no 
preventative to the gratification of forbidden desires, 
but rather a stimulus. She did not even possess the 
sense of honor, which her training, education, and the 
advantage of her position gave her, and that might and 
should act as an incentive to the higher honor of a wife. 
But she had worn purple and fine linen, all the days, of 
her life, drank of the delicate wines, and eat of the rich 
food, so long that they had deadened the moral sense, the 
restraining power, while losing their own flavor to the 
palate. The Greeks philosophy, that “ the rarity of the 
thing, is its enjoyment,” is true. The men and women 
of Oswald de Coute and Mrs. Leroy’s world, are in con- 
stant pursuit of pleasures, and they are no sooner born 
than they are gratified, and no sooner gratified, than 
they die upon the vitiated appetite. 

I thought of the helpless girl, the widow, who have 
seen better days, but now hunger and cold, and bald 
poverty, staring her and her little children in the face, 
such a woman might be tempted to do wrong and be 
pitied. I thought of Nina Palermo, scarcely out of her 
teens, with her wondrous beauty of face and form, full 
of the romance, dreams, ideals, and ambitions of youth; 
Nina, with the gentle and proud blood of her father, 


II2 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


mingling with the moral and honest integrity of her 
mother, running in her veins. Brought up by a poor 
and obscure woman, yet such as is good to meet now and 
then. Their wholesomeness, honesty, moral healthful- 
ness, and womanliness, which falls like the balm of 
Gilead upon those tired of a shamming world. 

Nina, reared in a New York tenement house, one of 
the great toiling mass of humanity, reared to earn her 
bread by the sweat of her brow. To face the world, to 
join that great army of women, of whom hundreds and 
thousands, every year, fall by the wayside. Driven, 
driven, persecuted because she fled from her foe, who 
would have slain that which should be dearer to every 
woman than life. Failing to make her his prey he 
branded her with a lie, and drove her from her place, 
the right to earn an honest living, side by side with her 
sisters. Poor Nina, when the door of that great dark 
house, received you inside, and its portals closed upon 
you, it did not shut you out from these eyes, of mine, I 
shall see you again, how or where or under what cir- 
cumstances I know not. 

I turned my head, and looked out of the window, the 
dawn was just breaking in the east, above long rifts of 
silvery gray clouds, fringed with pale rose hues, and in 
an interstice of these shone Venus in all her brilliant 
splendor, and to the left of her, was the crescent moon, 
lying like a bow of gold, on the feathery edge of a cloud. 
Off in the distance, I beheld the peaks of the Catskills, 
rising up dark against the white line of the horizon, then 
sweeping away like great billows rising and falling, un- 
til lost in the thick haze which lay like a purple lake to 
my right. 

Then the clouds parted, showing streaks of a luminous 
greenish blue, changing the rose hue of their edges to 
red. And Venus, sailed upon their top ridge, looking 
like a great jewel dropped from the moon, as its light 
faded into the larger and clearer light of day. Then the 
sun peeped out above the hills, and threw up its arms, 
and flung long arrows of gold over mountains, and val- 
leys, villages and hamlets, over Inlet and Bay, over sea, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. II3 

earth, and sky. What a silent beautiful spectacle it was 
to witness while the world slept. 

I rose and threw myself into bed, and slept until 
awakened by a slight noise in the hall, made by some 
housemaid, dropping a broom. I jumped up looked at 
my watch, its hands touched a quarter to eight, I un- 
dressed, bathed, and put on other clothing, then went 
down to breakfast. I found the hall full of guests, who 
had remained over night. After breakfast Professor 
Cline and his daughter, took their departure for home. 
I bid him and Clarise good-by, as I myself was going to 
leave that same evening for the West. 

“ You will come East next summer, Beverly,*’ he said, 
as he held my hand, in his tight warm grasp, “ then I 
hope to have you spend a few weeks with myself and 
Clarise. We shall try to make you as comfortable as 
possible.” Ah, Clarise, as I took the hand, you held out 
to me I dare not turn my eyes, and look into yours, I 
had not the courage. What poor weak stumbling, 
blundering, awkward things men are, when trying to 
conceal their love from the object loved. A woman can 
do it, but a man makes poor work of it. I raised her 
hand to my lips, and impressed a kiss upon it, which 
was permissible. About three o’clock in the afternoon 
I took my leave of the Arlingtons, Mrs. Arlington gave 
me a pressing invitation to come again. “ The door of 
this domicile is always open to you, young man,” said 
Mr. Arlington, with a hearty shake of the hand. I felt 
all along that Jeanette reciprocated the friendship I bore 
her, whether she felt any of the great admiration for 
myself that she awakened in me I know not. While I 
think she must have had some, I hardly think it could 
reach the same degree I cherished for her. Maud had 
also shown a marked preference for my society, but I 
thought it purely platonic, and kindly feeling. 

Bertram accompanied me to New York, where we 
dined, and had a few hours of delightful comradeship. 
Then to* the New York Central Depot, where I bought 
my ticket, and a through sleeper for home. And a little 
after nine o’clock I was on my way as fast as steam 
could carry me to the West. 


BOOK II. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE SUMMER OF 1 896. 

A year after I left New York, in *92, my uncle died. 
The great business depression that fell upon the country, 
with the coming in of Cleveland’s second administration, 
affected my uncle, more than he could realize for some 
time. Through the advice of a silent partner, he had 
invested heavily in certain stocks, outside of his mer- 
cantile business, had also made large loans, to private 
parties. Things kept going lower, and lower, until one 
morning, he woke up to find himself bankrupt. After 
this he fell very ill, and in a few weeks, passed away. 

I will not speak here of our parting, and the terrible 
blow, he felt it to be at finding a large fortune, the accu- 
mulating of which he had given nearly his whole life, 
swept away one might say, with a whiff of wind. Nor will 
I dwell on the almost paralyzing grief I felt for the loss of 
one who had been more than a father to me, indeed I 
knew no father, but him, and I loved him greatl}’. 
After a year my lawyer succeeded in getting the tangles 
out of a very complicated estate. All he could save at 
that time was the big house and all its furniture and 
appointments, which was our home since my first re- 
membrance. My uncle had kept this free from debt, and 
mortgages, and as he left a will, bequeathing all to me, 
the house, came into my possession. A little later a cer- 
tain prominent club, wishing to move farther up town, 
thought my home was just the place, suited to them in 
every way, and the result was a lease for a number of 
years. 

In the L of the third floor, were two small connect- 
ing rooms, a sitting-room, and a bedroom, these I had 

[114J 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


II? 


permission from the president of the club to reserve for 
myself, as they were of no possible use to the members, 
and suited me to a T. Of course the president, who 
knew my uncle well, favored me. My sitting-room, or 
my den, as I termed it, had two large windows, one fac- 
ing the north, and one the west, my bedroom window 
looked east. And what glorious views I had of the 
heavens at daybreak, at sunset, and at night, and mid- 
night, when the planets, with all their brilliant train, \ 
sailed over the deep purple dome. 

I moved all my traps up there, pictures, books, bric- 
a-brac, and wardrobe. Aunt Lucy, and myself, arrang- 
ing the whole thing. My uncle’s death, threw the dear 
old soul out of a home, but as she said, “ I knows my 
foster chile won let me want now I’m ole, an homeless.” 
She rented a room from some friends of hers, I paid her 
rent securing her the shelter, she also did my washing 
and mending, took care of my rooms, and my welfare in 
general, as she had done from my boyhood up, and I 
paid her well. 

I must say, that I deeply deplored the loss of my for- 
tune, I had been reared from childhood, with this ex- 
pectation, and as I grew to manhood, I had speculated, 
and dreamed much about the good use I would put it 
to, if I lived, and it ever came into my possession. I 
hope the reader will not think me selfish, or that my 
grief could be assuaged for my uncle by his money com- 
ing into my hands. Oh no, no only son could have 
mourned a dear generous noble father, more than I did 
for him. It took me months, and months, to rally from 
the stupor of my grief, and wake up to my loss and po- 
sition. I could play at things no longer, I must pick 
myself up, and put my shoulder to the wheel. I was 
alone in the world, I was a man, I must fight my way, 
and keep a man, and be manly. I had a small income 
it was true, and a den, which was something to start on, 
but I had to work. I must face the music, and what 
training and education I had, I must find a way to apply 
it. After doing desultory work for several months, on 
different newspapers, I was offered a position, as a re- 
porter on a prominent morning paper, I had come now 


ii6 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


to look Hpon journalism, and writing, as my profession, 
I liked it better and found myself more adapted to it 
than any other walk in life. 

I had worked upon this morning journal, nearly two 
years, and had been upon the editoral staff, for about a 
year, which brought me to the spring of eighteen hundred 
and ninety-six, when the presidential campaign broke 
full upon the country. I knew then which way the wind 
was blowing, I grasped the whole situation, I knew it 
would be a hard and bitter fight in the West, and on the 
side of the people. While the East, feeling perfectly 
secure, as to its candidate, would have to exert itself, to 
stay the opposition. There is no doubt but that there 
are a few men, in the East, New York City their head- 
quarters, who make and unmake presidents. The peo- 
ple have not awakened to this fact, yet, but when they 
do, my what an awakening there will be. 

The first speech in the Senate, of Senator Tillman, of 
South Carolina, was the forerunner of what was to fol- 
low. Many who had been having their eyes turned to 
the West, looking for a man of the people, thought they 
saw in him the man, but never dreamed of looking to 
the poor but aristocratic South, for their deliverer. It 
was also the coming of some of the grandest and most 
noble utterances, ever spoken by man, in a presidential 
campaign. I knew McKinley would be the Republican 
candidate, and the sixteenth of June confirmed it. But 
in July at the Democratic Convention in Chicago, a man 
from the West made his appearance, and flashed like a 
meteor of wondrous light, over a great nation. A man 
noble in bearing, handsome, a face beautiful in counte- 
nance, stamped with intellectuality, and the fire of poetic 
genius, burning in his eyes. Just enough western 
ruggedness for strength, character, and manliness. 

As the theme of this book is not politics, only as it 
will be touched upon here and there, and as it isn’t my 
province to dwell long on a subject, which would excite 
prejudices, suffice it to say here, that after the platform, 
adopted at the Chicago Democratic Convention, with 
Bryan for president, and Sewell for vice-president, I 
made up my mind to throw up my place on the Morning 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. II7 


Bugle^ as its politics, were different from mine, and I 
could not write one way and think another, as its editor- 
in-chief did. He dispatched me, “ If I wanted to succeed 
as a journalist, I mustn’t allow myself to be troubled by 
any qualms of conscience, in the political arena, to go 
in to win. Go ahead,” he wrote, “ and use that pen of 
yours, in favor of McKinley, for we are going to have 
one of the grandest Republican victories, that ever this 
country recorded.” I answered back, “ I was sure of 
that (and so I was) but I was going to take a holiday, I 
was going East to New York City, to spend the summer 
months.” 

“ Just the place my boy,” he wrote back on a piece of 
brown paper, “ and anything you wish to write up in the 
social line, or the political, the columns of the Bugle are 
at your service.” 

I wish to state here that my lawyer, had recovered 
for me several thousand dollars, from a rich firm, that 
was my uncle’s debtor, to a large amount. 

After sending over the wires, all my copy from 
Chicago, where I had been sent to report, I left the 
evening after the breaking up of the Democratic Conven- 
tion, and the morning after the second I arrived in New 
York City, after an absence of four years. I went to 
the Brunswick, and registered, intending to remain in- 
cognito to all my friends for a while at least. 

I will now steal a few minutes to go back. Jeanette 
Arlington, and Oswald de Coute were married in the 
October, after I left Anlace, and spent the winter 
abroad. They were now residing at Malmarda Castle. 
Maud had also married young Mr. Parish, as she does 
not figure prominently in this history, her name will be 
but casually mentioned hereafter. Bertram was still 
single, and had opened his law office in New York the 
fall his sister Jeanette married. Professor Cline and his 
daughter Clarise, still dwelt at their country home. I 
had kept up a regular correspondence with Bertram, and 
the professor, during the four years. A few letters also 
passed between myself and Clarise, which proved more 
conclusively that I was not mistaken in her rare gifts of 
mind and heart. I did my best in answering them, 


Ii8 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


keeping back all that would as much as tinge a word, or 
sentence, with the love I still bore her. Her letters 
were a rare treat to me, and the greatest pleasure and 
delight I knew, was when employing my leisure time in 
answering them. The last few received, although 
months apart, seemed to be impregnated with a note 
of sadness, but so delicately hidden that I could liken it 
to nothing but a low sweet strain of music, so softly 
touched on key, or string, that it could hardly be de- 
tected only by the most acute and symapthetic ear. So 
it was with my heart. It felt this strain of sadness, per- 
haps long before Clarise herself was aware of it. 

Now if these dear old friends of mine, had known of 
my visit to New York City, it would have interfered 
with the plans I had mapped out for myself, and the 
course of action I wished to pursue. Therefore I did 
not intend to inform them of my whereabouts, until the 
fall before my return home, that is if I did go back to 
the West and my own city. 

I intended after a few days rest, to hunt up Eugene 
Lunis and his mother, and learn if Nina had returned to 
the paternal roof. I had but one letter from Gene, and 
that was about six months after I left New York City. 
Nina had not then been seen, or heard from, and he 
stated that his mother and himself, had given up all 
hopes of ever seeing her again. But he added, “ I will 
never give up searching for her, all the time I can spare 
from my work, will be devoted to looking for her. This 
I will do until life ends.” I also intended to see New 
York City, as I had never seen it before, and make 
thorough work of it letting nothing deter me from this 
purpose. 

I remained in my room, all day resting, until time to 
dress, for dinner, which I enjoyed greatly. After dinner 
I lighted a cigar, took a seat outside, it being quite 
warm in the large salon of the office. There were sev- 
eral men seated outside, two about my own age, the 
others older, their ages varying from thirty-five to forty- 
five. The youngest of the two young men, was quite a 
handsome fellow, a swell, but of exceedingly blazd ap- 
pearance. He talked away to his companion^ iji the 


on, WHEN THE GREAT CITV IS AWAKE. ttg 

same broad drawl as Oswald de Conte, which the npper 
swelldom of New York City affect, they drop their R’s 
and accentuate their A’s. The southereners, do not 
drop their R’s so much as they roll their tongue softly 
over them, as if pushing them out of their way. 

“ Say, Benson, who do you suppose is back from Long 
Branch, that young Madame la Countess Palermo.” I 
sat with my chair, tipped back, against the railing of the 
entrance to the hotel. At the hearing of that name my 
feet were drawn under me and I fell forward, bringing 
my chair with me, but fortunately I was not discovered, 
and I soon recovered myself, relighted my cigar, tipped 
my chair back again, and lent my ear, to listen. “ They 
say the man, behind all her wealth is a mere shopman, 
a merchant, I don’t believe it. I saw her in her box, at 
the Opera, a few weeks ago, before Guezette left, I 
thought her the loveliest, and most magnificent looking 
woman in New York; she shared the honors with Guez- 
ette. There was Bill Astor, the Count Pere Le Croixe, 
and Tom Duke, all fine-looking men, representing family, 
wealth, and position. I sent her a fifteen dollar bouquet 
of white and pink roses, but she returned it with thanks, 
but with a smile, that I never saw on a woman’s face. 
I just wilted she looked so beautiful.” 

“ My dear Bill, I would advise you not to bother your 
head about this fair Countess, perhaps not a Countess 
at all — but an adventuress. 

“ Oh, yes, she inherits the title frorn her father.” 

“ Even so, she seems to me to be acting a part, she’s 
the kind of woman that wants men’s worship, but it 
must be hands off, like the song, ‘ Thou art so near, and 
yet so far,’ bah, too many good fish in the sea, and in 
the market too, for a fellow to make a fool of himself, 
for even the beautiful Countess Palermo.” 

With that he rose, the younger man, rose also and 
followed, they walked towards Fifth Avenue. 

Nina Palermo, the Countess, impossible, I said to my- 
self, I saw her enter that house, besides she could play 
no such role, as the woman these young men were 
speaking of. Impossible, absurd, I muttered, trying to 
dismiss what I heard from my mind. It was now dusk. 


120 


:^EVERLY OSGOOD; 


I threw away my cigar, which I had nearly smoked to 
the end, and walked to Twenty-third Street and turned off 
Broadway, walked east on Twenty-third Street until I 
came to Fourth Avenue, turned up Fourth Avenue to 
Twenty-F. — Street then to Third Avenue. 

At first I had some trouble in finding the Tunis’s 
number, as I wished to know if they still lived in the 
same place. The halls of the tenements here are poorly 
lighted at all seasons, and now that it was summer, the 
gas in the vestibule burned dimly. But I kept on walk- 
ing, and drawing closer to Second Avenue when I came all 
of a sudden to a door that looked very familiar to me. 
The lower floors, on both sides of the hall, were dark, 
but I knew the house, and as I approached nearer, I 
saw that the parlor window was open, the blinds drawn 
up, and the inside shutters but partially closed. I drev/ 
still closer to the window, there was a faint light in the 
parlor, which seemed to come from the small bedroom, 
the portieres had been taken down, and there was just 
light enough to distinguish objects in the little parlor. 

I was gladly surprised, on recognizing the furniture, 
only there seemed to be more evidence of comfort, orna- 
ments and such like. “ Yes,” I said to myself, “ the 
Tunis’s still live at No. 20 F, Street and they apparently 
occupy the whole apartment themselves, Nina must 
surely be home. I hastened away, not carirg to be ob- 
served by the people, or seen by the patrolman, and 
arrested for a suspicious character, loitering about the 
premises, for the electric lights now flashed out in all 
their brilliance, and the people began to crowd the 
streets. I walked back to Sixth Avenue where I took a 
car. and rode to Fifty-ninth Street, the entrance to Central 
Park. Here I got out and strolled for a short while in 
the park, not going far; the pavements around the en- 
trance were crowded with men, women and children, 
but where can one go in New York City that there isn’t 
a crowd. 

Teaving the park I leisurely walked toward Eighth 
Avenue and Broadway. Broadway ends here and the 
Boulevard begins, and it’s here where the bicyclists con- 
centrate for the ride up the Boulevard. They make a 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


121 


beautiful sight, coining up one side and going down the 
other, looking like an army of noiseless spirits, with 
their burning lamps lighting them on their way to the 
shadowy land. I stood a few minutes on the corner 
watching the men and women, flying past me on their 
wheels, then turned and walked up about two or three 
squares following the Boulevard. Somewhere near Sixty- 
second or Sixty-third Street, there is a large open space 
for nearly a block, that runs back to Eight Avenue and the 
park. 

I stopped here again a few moments to watch the 
bicyclists as it was more secluded, andi not so light, I 
chanced to look down the street, and saw coming 
toward me a carriage driven rapidly. The driver was 
seated on the box, beside what looked to me to be a boy 
about half grown. The man driving was lashing his 
horses at a furious rate which caused me to fix my at- 
tention upon him, then I saw a woman thrust her head 
out of the carriage door window, but she immediately 
drew it back, as if some one inside were pulling her. In 
a second her head and shoulders appeared again, and 
she seemed to be trying to open the door, and at the 
same time making a desperate effort to attract the 
driver's attention. 

Failing in this she put her hand back, and drew out 
something like a parasol, leaned farther out of the win- 
dow, and began to poke at the man on the box, as if try- 
ing to strike him, but he only lashed his horses all the 
faster. Then head and shoulders disappeared in the 
carriage, as if by the sudden lunge of the horses for- 
ward she was thrown back. 

I left where I stood, and hurried toward the carriage, 
as I neared it, and it me, the head thrust itself out 
again, and I heard a voice faintly say, “ Stop! stop! let 
me out !” and I saw the head was that of a young girl. I 
hurried into the road, the carriage was close to the 
pavement, although the Boulevard is wide, there are sev- 
eral lines of cable car tracks, besides the trees in the 
center that divide the different tracks. I raised my 
cane, and commanded the driver to stop, but he only 
whipped his horses, so they reared up on their hind 


122 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


legs. “ Stop the carriage and let the girl out,** I cried, 
or I shall call the police, stop!’' I commanded, catching 
hold of the horses’ bridle, and bringing all my strength 
to bear, I held them in check. 

By this time quite a crowd of men, and several 
women, had gathered about me, and with the help of 
some of the others, I guided the horses to the curb. 
The driver got down from the box, so did the boy, and 
stood by the carriage door, there was no one in the car- 
riage with the girl, but she seemed to be in a stupefied 
condition, as if she had been drugged. 

“ You are evidently keeping this woman in this car- 
riage against her will,” I said, “ and conveying her 
somewhere she don’t wan’t to go; you must open the 
door, and let her out.” 

“ She was put in my charge, down town, by two 
ladies, and one man, and I[was ordered to take her to her 
home, to a certain number on a certain street not far 
from here. I will not let her out of the carriage, you 
Mr. can get in an drive with her, an 111 deliver her at 
the number stated.” 

“ No I will not go into the carriage; the woman is a 
Stranger to me, but I will see that she is protected and 
taken to her home, or wherever she wants to go.” 
Quite a large crowd had gathered about us now. 

“ You’ll have the Cops here in a minute Mr. — they’ll 
arrest me an take me down, an throw the woman into 
prison, an she can have a tumble with the rest of thim, 
an I’ll be dm — n if I’ll be fined.” And with that he 
started to jump on the box. 

“ Hold,” I cried, “ you must let the girl out, and she 
can speak for herself, and I pushed the boy who stood 
by the carriage door aside, and as I did, my eyes rested 
on a woman, making her way through the crowd. For a 
moment I was stunned with astonishment at her ap- 
pearance. She raised both hands with a peculiar gesture, 
like one separating something, the crowd parted as if by 
magic, to let her pass; she looked me full in the eyes as 
she drew near, even the boy and the driver fell away 
before her, without a show of resistance. In a second 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 12$ 


she had the carriage door open. “ Come,** she said to 
me in a voice soft and musical, yet firm and command- 
ing in its tone, “ be kind enough to assist me to get her 
out. Make haste,*' she said, as I stood looking at her in 
a dazed way, “ we must get her out and away from here 
before the police arrive. She does not live far from 
here; I know where she lives. She has been drugged, 
at least the wine or whatever she drank has been 
drugged, which is frequently done.” 

“ Allow me, Madame,” I said, placing both my arms 
about the girl, and lifting her out bodily, and setting 
her on her feet on the pavement. The driver jumped 
up on his box, the boy following him, whipped up his 
horses, and in a second was out of sight. I placed one 
of the girl’s arms in mine, my Lady, taking the other, 
we walked her slowly through the crowd, a few of the 
most curious ones following after us. Several times the 
girl’s feet refused to move under her, and she came near 
falling, pulling us down upon her. Once or twice I was 
forced to pick her up and carry her bodily for a square 
or so. After walking about two or three squares, and 
one towards Central Park, my Lady stopped before the 
door of a large, elegant apartment house. “ Here,” she 
said, “ is the place. We must try and get her in as quiet 
as possible.” 

We carried her up the wide stone steps to the ves- 
tibule, where my Lady rang one of the many electric 
bells. In a moment it was answered by the latch of the 
big front door falling. “ Ah,” she cried, with a sort of 
suppressed triumph, as we entered a handsomely fur- 
nished hall, having some distance back from the door a 
wide winding stairway, “ we have gotten ahead of 
the police to-night. Now how will we take her upstairs 
without noise; we must not let the janitor hear us.” 

“ I am quite strong,” I replied, “ she is but a slim 
girl. I can carry her to the second floor.” 

“ Her apartment is on the third floor, but there must 
be some one at home.’* 

I took her up in my arms, and carried her to the 
second floor. Just as I stood her upon her feet, a negro 
woman made her appearance. 


124 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


“ Bless de Lod, chile honey, if it bene Miss Ada. 
She’s bene gone since monin’. Ise jest knows dis I’d 
be de way, when she go wid dose two women. Dat 
Mrs. Jones an Madame Sqares.” 

“ Here,” I said, “ take hold of her arm, and help ns np 
with her, for she was heavier than I thought when I 
started np the stairs. When we reached the third land- 
ing, one of the doors of the girl’s apartment stood open 
and a woman of about thirty years of age stood near it, 
when she saw us she came forward. “ M-m-m, ’ she 
said, in a French accent, and with gesticulation, “ Mam- 
sell Ada, what ize ze matta, wake up.” The black 
woman left us, and my Lady and myself led and half 
carried the stupefied girl into what I took to be the din- 
ing-room. It was brilliantly lighted, and furnished 
elegantly; in the center of the room stood a square din- 
ing-table of antique oak, and upon it was a silver salver 
with wine glasses, and two handsome cut glass decan- 
ters filled with wine and liquor, beside this laid a half 
smoked cigarette. The black girl led the way into a 
small bedroom off the dining-room, and here we laid 
the half dead bundle of flesh, muslin, India silk, lace and 
blond hair. Then for the first time she spoke, opening 
wide two large lustrous blue eyes. 

“You get out of here, or I will throw this pillow at 
you,” she cried, raising herself up in the bed, and reach- 
ing for the pillow. “ It’s you and the likes of you that 
has brought me here. Caroline put him out ; I hate the 
whole race of men ; I could slay them in their tracks 
where they stand. I could run a dagger through their 
hearts with the best grace in the world, and never re- 
pent of it. I have been drugged again Caroline, and it 
was that rich Perkins who did it. I went to dinner 

to with Amelia, and Madame Skyare; we had a room 

all to ourselves, and we were not long there before 
young Perkins came; he’s in love with me, and wants 
to get me away from Billy. It was made up between 
him and Madame Skyare, I am sure of it now. I didn’t 
drink but one glass of champagne; I am positive now 
it was tampered with. 

“ Oh,” she went on, raising up in the bed again, for 


0 % WHEN tHE great ClTV IS AWAKE. 1^5 

she had fallen back on the pillows and began to cry, 
“ what would Billy say if he knew I deceived him like 
this. Oh, he must never know, Caroline, you must 
never tell him. Oh, I have fallen so low, and through 
no particular fault of mine.” Then she began to curse 
and swear at herself and Perkins. 

I left the room, crossed over to the door, and stood 
there waiting to escort my Lady out, when she was 
ready to leave. She stood by the bed of this poor un- 
fortunate frail girl, who was exceedingly pretty, very 
fair, with small delicate features, and was dressed in 
exquisite taste. 

“ Hush-sh-,” said my Lady, kneeling down by her 
bedside, “ you must not take that name in vain. The 
Christ, whose name you profane, was so pitiful, so 
merciful, to such as you. Thank Him that you have 
been saved from the awful degradation, the fearful ex- 
perience if you survived it, the memory of which you 
would never forget until the grave covered you. You 
would have been taken to some house by the driver of 
the carriage, and perhaps Perkins would have kept you 
there until he saw fit to let you go. Besides the police 
might have arrested you, and dragged you to the station, 
where you would probably spend the night with thieves, 
and the lowest and vilest of your kind. You would 
have to appear at court in the morning, be fined, and 
your name heralded all over the country by every news- 
paper of New York City. I do not know what this 
young man’s creed is, but his act in rescuing you was 
Christian.” 

“ Who are you?” asked the girl, raising the lids of her 
eyes with an effort, for she seemed to have no power to 
keep them open. “ Who are you,” she asked again after 
a long pause, and steadly gazing into my Lady’s face. 
“ Where did you come from, I have never had a woman 
speak to me before like that. I have never seen a 
woman look like you. Are you really a woman?” 

“ Oh, yes, my poor girl, I am a woman, an humble 
follower of the merciful Christ I just now spoke to you 
about; I am his witness.” 

Oh,” cried the girl, covering her face with her hands, 


126 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


the fingers of which were covered with rings, I am a 
bad woman, I have fallen so low. Go away, there is no 
hope for me, you cannot raise me from the depths of 
degradation I have fallen into. Go away, go away ! if I 
had a brother or some one who would shoot Perkins. I 
will kill him myself. Go away, go away ! you can’t help 
me,” and she fell back again on the pillows. 

“ Oh, my poor girl, do not talk in that strain. There 
is one who is always ready, always compassionate. He 
came down from heaven to live among us, and teach the 
children of men. To show us the way to freedom, life 
and happiness. He can save you, and lift you up out 
of your degradation, and give you a blessedness you 
would never dream of if you will but ask Him for 
strength to turn aside from your sins, this awful life. 
It is not life, it is slavery of the worst kind. If you are 
willing to seek, you will find; He stands ready with 
arms outstretched to receive you, if you are willing to 
pay the price.” 

Let me give you a glimpse of my Lady, which title I 
give her for the present, as she sits by the bedside of 
this unfortunate girl. Her age (that is if such a woman 
CO aid at any age, ever be old), at this time I should 
guess to be from thirty-five to forty, tall and of majestic 
figure, and mien, with a grave stateliness of manner. 
Hanging from her shoulders is a long black silk mantle, 
which since entering the house, she had thrown back, 
letting it fall off upon the chair she was seated upon, 
showing a white dress made of some soft material. The 
bodice was tight fitting, buttoning clear up to the 
throat, where it was finished with a crush collar of satin. 
The skirt hung in wide loose folds down to the toe of a 
black low shoe, that shod a foot small for one so amply 
built, and of such grand proportions. And her face, 
what shall I say of it, so beautiful in its grave serenity, 
the complexion pale, the features finely cut, but of 
marked character, yet showing great refinement. Her 
hair was abundant; a dark brown, the front hair made 
conspicuous by a streak of gray half an inch wide, 
looking like a fillet of pure silver, clasping the curls on 
her forehead. The eyes were large, and of a color hard 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 27 

to tell, only that they were dark and deep, and fathom- 
less. Eyes that seemed to look inward, and outward, 
and pierce into futurity. 

Ah, me, it was not the beauty of outline of feature, 
complexion, hair, and eyes, that gave the face its attrac- 
tion, and set it apart as one seldom seen, but the stamp 
of intellect, knowledge of human life, of trials passed 
through, a great sorrow of which she had risen phenix- 
like from its ashes. One of those who had come up 
through great tribulation, and whose robes were washed 
white in the blood of the Lamb. And with His seal 
upon her brow, the touch of His spirit vitalizing her 
soul, she went forth with strength and power, to do and 
to brave. Upon her head, which sat grandly poised 
upon a column-like neck, she wore a small white round 
straw hat, and wrapped about the crown was a white 
gauze veil, the ends coming down and tied to one side 
under her chin. 

She rose from where she was sitting, and knelt down 
by the bedside and began to pray in a voice that it had 
never been my pleasure to hear before. She began 
lowly at first, softly, gently, pleading with the Father, 
for His Son’s sake to be merciful, and pitiful to this err- 
ing fallen daughter, to touch her heart, to change it, to 
give her strength, to turn aside from sin, to come out 
and be free. Then her voice rose higher, and higher, 
like the strains of a flute, full of intense and passionate 
pleading floating up and about the room; then rever- 
berated back, and up again, until it seemed like a trumpet 
piercing the walls, and ascending up till it touched the 
throne of God. 

I looked towards the French woman, who sat in a 
large easy chair, by the table, smoking a cigarette, she 
smiled and winked, and pointed her finger towards the 
door of the bedroom. She had offered me a cigarette 
when I first left the room, also a glass of wine, both of 
which I declined. “ Oh, Mon Dien^'' she exclaimed, as 
the force of the prayer struck her, and taking the ciga- 
rette from her mouth, she threw it into the grate, and fell 
upon her knees muttering, “ Zat ize ze way wize ze 


128 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


prayin’ womanze. Za go on awfully, za make me cry. 
Oh, holy Mother, we ze bad zet.” 

I had also bent the knee when my Lady began to 
pray ; when she finished the young girl on the bed was 
sound asleep. “ I will come in the morning,” she said 
to the black woman, whose face was an ashen hue, and 
her eyes gleamed upon my Lady with something of awe, 
fear and reverence mixed. “ Tell her I shall be here 
early, and not under any circumstances to go out.” She 
drew her mantle up about her neck and shoulders, left 
the bedroom, and beckoned to me to follow her, as she 
passed out the door into the hall. 

I would have followed her any where now. I saw 
nothing, heard nothing, and was interested in nothing, 
but her at the time, I bowed to the French woman 
who stood near the door, good-night, and followed on 
after my Lady. When we reached the street she 
turned to me with a beautiful smile, and said, “ I am so 
pleased to find a young gentleman gallant enough to 
protect a woman simply because she is a woman. You 
have no idea how it gladdens my heart. Are you a 
philanthropist ?” 

“ Oh no,” I answered her, “ I fear I am nothing but 
an idle fellow, a sort of a dreamer, who likes to go 
spooking about, more for my own gratification than for 
any good I may accomplish.” 

“ It is the dreamers who make the world move. They 
are the men and women who do the thinking. All the 
progress, the upward, and onward movements, the great 
ideas put into use that have bettered the condition of 
the human race, have come from the men who have 
been scoffingly called by their fellowmen, ' idle dream- 
ers.’ The world is apt to treat these men with scorn, 
and speak triumphantly of men of action, but it is easy 
enough to act, when others have done the thinking.” 

“ I have not just made up my mind as to what I do 
want to do. My home is not here, and the death of an 
uncle who reared me leaves me without any particular 
home.” 

“ Then you are not a New Yorker, I thought so,” 
she said, gravely. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 29 

“ No, I am from the southwest; a city lying upon the 
banks of the father of waters, the Mississippi. But I 
visit New York frequently. I have quite a number of 
friends here. I intend staying in the city all summer, 
but wish to keep my presence here a secret so as to 
have all my time to myself.’’ 

“ Ah, I see,” she replied, “ I understand. I appreciate 
your motive, I know what the demands of the social 
world are. I have lived in it, it is a tyrant, a great 
eater of time, which one can put to more profitable use. 
The girl you rescued to-night from Perkins, and the 
police, was drugged; it’s a frequent occurrence here in 
this’great city. Perkins and the two women who placed 
her in the carriage had a hand in it. I suppose the 
women did it for money. The girl has been with them 
since eleven o’clock this morning, so the black woman 
told me.” 

“ Has she a husband?” I asked. 

“ I suppose she is the mistress of some man; I know 
her by sight as I do hundreds of her class, but nothing 
of her history. Likely she is some girl, of good respect- 
able family, from some of the country towns around 
New York; they are more easily led astray than city 
girls of the same place in life. There are hundreds, and 
thousands of men and women in this city who recognize 
no law, no God, or His commandments, or the saving 
grace, or power, or spirituality of Christ Jesus. They 
know no law but their own appetites, and the gratifica- 
tion of sensual pleasures ; they feed, pamper the body, 
and starve the soul. It is the mode of life in these ele- 
gant luxurious apartment houses, which excites all the 
senses, and creates the feverish desire to gratify them.” 

Then I am not mistaken; your observations agree 
with mine, that refined sensualism is the predominant 
vice of this great city.” 

“ Mistaken, mistaken,” she reiterated in a suppressed 
voice, and slacking her pace, “ you are not mistaken, 
and I am pleased to know that your eyes are not holden, 
that you see and observe. Rome in the days of its 
power, its Caesars, and Republic, was never more pagan, 
or voluptuous in its life, than the great city of New York, 


130 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


It is not only in the case of the rich, but with all classes; 
Pompeii was never more licentious, even the churches 
here seem to have lost the tenet of Christ’s mission and 
teaching, and materialism has deadened and stayed their 
spiritual growth. ‘ My kingdom is a spiritual kingdom,’ 
He said. ‘ I came that ye might have life, and have it 
more abundantly.’ Life,” she cried, her face all aglow, 
and her eyes aflame, “ why I never knew what it was to 
live before I gave myself to Plim, to have ability, 
strength and power, and one cannot reach this without 
the highest purity. Why in this great city with its two 
millions of people, where so many lives are wrecked 
yearly, hundreds and thousands of men and women 
come seeking employment, and look in vain for 
friendly help to obtain work, grow discouraged and drift 
into the direst poverty; some to the slums, some to the 
pavement, and die unknown, unsought. Yes, this city 
the great pitiless jaguar that devours men and women, 
is no more to me than a rubber ball is to a boy, who 
tosses it up so that he may see it fall again. 

“ I have gone at midnight into the roughest, toughest 
quarters, into crowds where the worst element of New 
York congregated, thieves, pickpockets, thugs. Men 
wild with drink, stupified with whiskey, like the absinthe 
of the French that deadens all the moral faculties; men 
with a look upon their faces in which all the man, the 
image of God, was buried under the leering face of the 
beast. And with a light touch of this hand on their 
shoulder, they parted and made way for me, not an un- 
kind word would be spoken. Some of these I have 
awakened by my prayers to a sense of their awful con- 
dition, and they would bow their heads, and beg m.e to 
cease before hell opened and swallowed them. 

“ I have gone into the houses of the scarlet women, 
whose grandeur, luxury, taste and appointments, could 
not be guessed from the home of the uptown millionaire ; 
I have gone at night when the revel was at its height; 
when the shimmer and sheen of satin, and the shrough 
of silk, blended in harmony with the low sensuous 
strains of the walte. And bare arms, necks and 
bosoms, vied with the dazzling lights above their heads, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 131 


in the flash and gleam of their jewels. And youth, 
roses and perfume, went on in the mad dance, heedless 
of the hand that beckoned them on, and on, down, down 
to where? A little later they gathered round tha card 
tables, and the laugh rang louder, while they quaffed 
the red wine, and the cards and dice were flung faster, 
and men drank fiercer as they bet thousands, and the 
corks from champagne bottles flew about my head. 
But I prayed on, and my voice went out and up in 
pleadings to the Master, until it drowned their carous- 
als, and like Daniel in the lion’s den, they sat mute and 
listened. The women would weep and beg the men to 
go home and leave them. Two or three years later I 
have met some of the gayest of these young things on 
the pave or in the prison cells, old, hardened and 
dissipated. 

“ I have walked these streets alone at two and three 
in the morning, and at every other step, men have 
spoken to me, but I let my mantle fall, and stretched 
out my arms,” and she made the same gesture with her 
hands and arms, as she did when she made her way 
through the crowd that had gathered about the carriage, 
and they stepped aside and let her open the door.” 

“ I mumbled out something about her being afraid to 
be out alone so late at night.” 

“ Afraid,” she exclaimed, “ fear, and I about my 
Master’s work! afraid, with the Lord Christ for an 
escort, and armed with the gift of the Holy Spirit 1 Oh 
no, I know no fear; you do not understand, you are but 
a novice, though I see the desire struggling in you, but 
you can enter in if you will seek, and are willing to pay 
the price. Yes, the police hate me; you know since 
Parkhurst got the Lexow committee together, and they 
have exposed the awful condition of things in the city, 
they dare not take money from these poor creatures, 
but tney oppress them shamefully; they arrest them on 
all occasions, and on the least provocation drag them 
to prison; this only hardens and degrades them, and 
they sink lower and lower. It is all right enough to 
make laws to regulate these things, but you cannot 
make one code of morals for men, and another for 


132 


BEVERLY OSGOOD { 


women. If I take a pure wliite piece of cardl^oard, so 
spotless that the eye can’t detect even a speck of dust, 
and I take another piece white also, but soiled, smeared 
with smut, and I lay the two together, the spotless will 
become soiled with the soil of the other. So with men 
and women, their lives are inseparable, it’s the law of 
nature, then why shouldn’t both be clean? Why should 
we tie the pure and soiled together? why should we 
destroy purity by smirching it with disease? 

“ The only way to stop and stay this awful sin is to 
convict and convert the sinner. You cannot stop vice 
by law, you can regulate it, but the only refuge from sin 
is in One, and He Christ Jesus.” 

We had now reached the elevated station of the 
Sixth Avenue where she stopped. “ I take the cars here,” 
she said. 

“ But Madame,” I exclaimed, “ you will surely permit 
me to see you to your home.” 

“ Not to-night,” she answered. 

“ You surely will not refuse me the pleasure of 
further acquaintance with you. Do not I beg of you 
let it end here.” She looked up in my face and smiled, 
a little boy might have seen just such a smile on the 
face of his mother, as he asked for something she did 
not deem it best to grant him just then. 

“ We will meet again,” she said. “ How soon I can- 
not say, but content yourself, we did not meet to-night 
to part, and go out of each others lives so soon. Oh, 
no, we will meet again, rest assured.” 

“ But allow me to go up and put you on the car.” 

“ If it’s any pleasure to you.” 

She went on before me up the stairs ; as we reached 
the landing the train came steaming in, I took her arm 
and led her to the car, took off my hat and held it in 
my hand until the train disappeared out of sight. I 
left the platform, went down the stairs, intending to go 
up on the other side to take the down town train, but 
when I reached the street, I changed my mind, and took 
a Broadway cable car back to the hotel. When I 
entered the office, I looked at my watch, it was just a 
(juarter to two. I had no idea from the stir on the 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 33 


streets it was so late. I made my way to the dining- 
room, and ate a light lunch, then went to my room and 
to bed, where I thought a long time over the incidents 
of the night, and my new found friend. 


CHAPTER II. 

AFTER FOUR YEARS, I FIND MYSFLF ONE EVENING 
WITH GENE AND HIS MOTHER. 

The next morning on going down to breakfast what 
was my surprise to find sitting opposite to me at table, 
an old friend of my uncle’s, who had moved to New 
York City, from the West, ten years before. I recognized 
him immediately, and made myself known to him. He 
was pleased to see me, remembered me well as a lad. 
Had heard of my uncle’s failure and death, which he de- 
plored greatly, and inquired particularly about myself, 
and my future prospects. I see, I see,” he remarked, 
after a sip of his coffee, when I had related to him how 
I had been putting in my time, since my uncle’s demise. 

“ Then you have taken to journalism as a profession, 
I see, I see. A good broad field for a young man of 
talent, and an inclination that way. Much liberty for 
evil, and also for good, yes, I see, I see. You will be in 
New York all summer, you say, nov/ that makes me think. 
I am going out West, to California, and shall be gone un- 
til fall, I leave this afternoon. My house up town is 
closed, no one but old Michael and his wife there. My 
wife is in Europe, has been for the last year, and will be 
for a year to come. 

“ Now my lad, if you like you can go up and make 
yourself at home, in the big house. Library, drawing- 
room, music-room, with all kinds of musical instruments. 
Music was my wife’s hobby, until she was taken ill, 
her health is still very poor, that is why she is now in 
Europe. There is everything to interest you, and plenty 


134 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


of good restaurants and hotels around on the avenue. 
My cook has gone with the other servants off on a vaca- 
tion, but Michael will attend to all the rest of your wants 
nicely. I see, I see. You can come right up with me 
and I will introduce you to old Michael and his wife.'* 

I was more than delighted at this proposition from my 
uncle’s old friend, it opened up to me all sorts of new 
vistas in the distance, of what might turn up between 
then and fall. I felt like the Frenchman, who was dining 
with a friend, and was asked by a bachelor, at dinner, 
if he were married, and on answering in the negative, 
his questioner replied, “ Lucky dog, lucky dog.” I was 
a lucky dog. To have a whole big house to oneself, in 
New York City, where people are packed together as 
thick as sardines in a box, means something. When we 
finished our breakfast we went to the office, and after 
paying my bill I ordered my baggage sent to No. — 
W. 8o — S. — Street, then accompanied Mr. Quinton to 
his home. 

It was one of those large New York houses, one of a 
handsome row of brown stone fronts, with nothing to 
distinguish it on the outside from its neighbors, but its 
number. But the interior expressed individuality, every- 
where the eye looked. The rooms were lofty and ele- 
gant, and cool as the deep sea. In the furnishing theic 
was that sense of harmony of color, the blending of light 
and shade, the richness of tone, which is so restful, and 
such a delight to the eye. After being introduced to 
Michael and his wife, as a friend of their master’s, and 
one perfectly safe to occupy a room in the house during 
his absence we sat conversing in the library for nearly 
three hours, on various things. The presidential cam- 
paign and other issues, which were touched upon lightly, 
when the carriage called to take him to the ferry. He 
had shipped all his fishing tackle, tent and all necessaries 
for camping purposes, and was to join a party of friends 
that had preceded him, a few days before. 

So I bid him good-by, with expressions of regret at 
parting so soon, and many thanks for his kindness, and 
took possession of a lovely room on the third floor. “You 
can have any room in the house you wish,” said Mrs. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 35 


Michael, a round plump Irish woman, with a good-na- 
tured face, set off with wavy iron-gray hair. “ Mr. 
Quinton tole Michael, to see that you were made com- 
fortable an to attind to yere wants, an if he forgits, I 
won’t. Strangers might think Michael a little daft at 
times, but it’s only that he goes about kinda mopey like. 
But he’s diver for all, an is trusty as the day’s long. 
Mr. Quinton knows that, he’s known Michael for tin 
year, thin I’m always at Michael’s back, so what he lacks, 
I makes up.” With that she left me, to enjoy my room, 
as she said, going out the door. 

I waited in the house until my baggage came, and I 
had Michael help carry it up to my room. Michael ap- 
peared to be anything but a man that would be apt to 
go daft at times. I found him a quick-witted, strongly 
built, shrewd old Irishman, but like all his countrymen 
in New York, and like the men and women of other 
countries, as well as Americans, he was fond of his little 
drop. About five o’clock I took a Broadway car to the 
Brunswick for dinner. After dinner I sat outside smok- 
ing until about dusk, in hopes of again meeting my two 
young gentlemen friends of the night before, but they 
did not show up while I sat there. 

It was nearly eight, when I wended my way along 
Broadway, until I cameto Twenty-third Street. The long 
summer twilight of the North, makes it delightful to walk 
at this hour, and it is the hour I love most of all to me- 
ander about ; either in country lanes and roads, or upon 
the city streets, and watch the shadows falling, length- 
ening, and blending the harsh outlines of the houses, 
their bold fronts receding like a face, whose features 
are too prominent, softened by the veil of gauze which 
covers it. The noises seem more hushed and fall upon 
the ear in harmony of sounds. When I reached Twenty- 
F — Street and^Third Avenue, the streets were crowded 
with people, men, women, and children. I passed Third 
Avenue, and was soon at the Tunis’s number. The gas 
burned quite dimly in the vestibule, and I could hardly 
make out their bell, but after much groping around, I 
found it, giving it a light pressure with my finger; in a 
few minutes to my surprise, it was answered by Gene, 


136 


BEVERLY OSGOOD } 


himself. He was dressed for the evening, in white shirt, 
dark necktie, dark coat, and light gray trousers, no vest. 

“ Does Mrs. Lunis live here,” I asked. He looked at 
me a moment keenly, then exclaimed, holding out his 
hand, “ I be dashed if it isn’t Mr. Osgood, how are you ? 
I’m so glad to see you. Come in, mother will be beside 
herself with pleasure at sight of you.” 

I followed him into the parlor. “ Sit here,” he said, 
drawing out the best armchair, and I will go and tell 
her, there’s a gentleman in the parlor wishes to see her, 
she is back in the kitchen.” 

He turned up the gas, and left me, as he spoke I could 
see that a more mature manhood had replaced the boy- 
ishness of four years before, and he had grown taller 
and straighter, with that sort of handsome ruggedness, 
which we see in men of his trade, when they are sober, 
intelligent, and of sound morals. After a short while 
he came back preceding Mrs. Lunis. 

“ Mother,” he said, smiling at me, let me introduce 


“ Why indeed, indeed,” she cried, clasping her hands 
together, and stepping back a pace or two, then forward 
again, as I rose and held out my hand to her. “ Indeed, 
indeed, it’s Mr. Osgood, well dear sir, if you were Gene, 
an he had been away the years you have, an just come home, 
I couldn’t be more glad an rejoiced to see him, than I 
am you.” And certainly her face told more than her 
words, for it beamed upon\me with that disinterested 
affection, which I think is peculiar to woman. “ Sit 
down, sit down,” she said, as Gene drew up a chair for 
her, and seated himself beside her, when I had resumed 
my seat. “You have changed greatly, Mr. Osgood, like 
Gene, the four years past sits well on you, it’s a coat you 
fill out and fit nicely, nicely. Do you intend staying in 
New York ?” 

“ I shall be here all summer; did I write you that I 
lost my uncle by death, about two years ago ?” 

“We never received but one letter, and that shortly 
after you returned home, you did not mention in that 
letter your uncle’s death.” 

I then told them, that when I was in New York be- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITV IS AWAKE. 1 3/ 

fore and occupied the parlor we were seated in, I was 
heir to half a million dollars and over, but the great busi- 
ness depression which had fallen to our country, and es- 
pecially the West, in the last six years, had swept away 
my uncle’s fortune, which I thought was the cause of 
his death. 

“ Mother and myself knew you were a gentleman, born 
and reared, and a young man of means.” 

Yes, Gene called you the Count incog.” 

After both expressed much sympathy for what they 
felt to be a great calamity to me, the loss of my uncle 
and fortune, I informed them that I had been ever since 
his death, engaged in journalism, and intended making 
it a profession. 

“We are having lively times here this summer,” re- 
marked Gene, “it will be the hottest contested presiden- 
tial election that has ever been in this country.” 

“ On what side are you. Gene ?” I asked. 

“ I think it little worth while to be on either side. Dem- 
ocrat or Republican,” he replied with a shrug of his shoul- 
ders. “ A man’s vote counts for nothing in our country, 
in these days. The politicians and moneyed men, put 
the man they want in for president, regardless of votes.” 

“ Then you think universal suifrage is not the panacea 
for all ills, that the men who fought, died, and bled for 
liberty, fraternity and equality to all men, believed it 
to be.” 

“ I think if you could see the cheating, and the rotten- 
ness of the men who control the ballot box, you would 
say it is the greatest curse to our country, giving the 
vote without any qualifications to ignorant and unscru- 
pulous men, the riff-raff of every nation under the sun, 
when but a few years here. So far as presidents are 
concerned, a man’s vote counts little there.” 

“ You mean. Gene, that there are a few men in the city 
of New York, of untold wealth, who rrvake and unmake 
presidents; when it suits them to put a Democrat in, they 
put him in, the same with a Republican, just so they get 
their man, and fool the people ?” 

“ If lam anything, lam a Democrat of the new school.” 

“ Here’s another,” I replied, holding out my hand to 


138 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


him, “ I think all the young men are, who are not Re- 
publicans/' and I shook the hand he proffered warmly. 

“ My dears, you must take into consideration the 
hundreds an thousands of poor workmen, who are threat- 
ened to be turned out of employment before elections, 
their wives and children threatened with starvation, if 
they don’t vote for this man or that man. When hun- 
ger comes in the window, like love, principle flies out 
the door,” said Mrs. Lunis. 

“ I know all about it mother, every workman with in- 
telligence sees lots, and knows heaps, and more shame 
for the bosses. They are ready enough to close their 
grip on a few thousand dollar checks, and then force 
their men to vote for a man they curse in their hearts, 
and doubly curse the slavery that compels them to sell 
their birthright, like Esau, for a mess of pottage. But 
it’s a long lane that has no turn. Now Mr. Osgood, when 
you get to be editor of a paper, I hope you will go in for 
the truth, and the right of every man to be free and un- 
trammelled in action, free to live up to his principles.” 

“You can stake your life on that. Gene,” I answered. 
After a pause of some moments I inquired, “ Are you 
alone ? There is one I hoped to see here, hoped she had 
long ago returned to you, and since I have been sitting 
here I have expected every moment to see her enter the 
room.” Gene’s cheek turned red, then pale, he dropped 
his head, and looked down at the floor. Mrs. Lunis, 
who I saw had aged more than the years warranted, 
since I last saw her, and the silver threads which streaked 
her dark auburn hair, were very observable, changed 
color, bowed her head and clasped her hands before her. 

“ Nina has never come back to us,” replied Gene, gulp- 
ing down something in his throat, which made him 
hoarse, “ or has she ever been seen by any one who ever 
knew her, since the night she disappeared. I have used 
every moment I could spare from my work, to search 
for her ; I have gone to every place of amusement and 
resort, of the highest and the lowest, in the city, spent 
money that I should never think of doing for high priced 
entertainments, in hopes through incident, or accident, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. I30 


I might meet her, or some good fortune would throw us 
together. Sometimes I think she has left the city.” 

“ That pcssiby might be,” I replied, “ but New 
York is a large place, and there is no where a woman, or 
a man, can lose themselves so completely as in a large 
city.” 

“ Emma Co wen has been telling mother a lot of gos- 
sip she heard at the store, about some young Countess, 
who reports says, is the most beautiful woman in New 
York, she has the most elegant turnout, with footman 
and livery. She is seen at the races, the theatres and 
the opera, and lives up town, all alone in an elegant 
brown stone mansion. You know girls, working in 
large stores, hear a good deal of that kind of talk and 
foolishness. And she says it has gotten into her head, 
and she can’t get it out, that this Countess is none other 
than Nina. But I take no stock in Emma’s romancing; 
some reporter, for the want of news, has been writing 
up something about this beautiful Countess, or he’s stolen 
it out of a book. If she were Nina, I would have met 
her somewhere and I would recognize Nina, under any 
circumstances, in the rags of a beggar, or the silks and 
velvets of a princess.” 

I sat dumbfounded at Gene’s recital, and could not 
believe my ears, I thought of what I heard the two young 
men say at the Brunswick, but I made up my mind not 
to commit myself until further developments. I turned 
to Mrs. Lunis, and said, “ Didn’t I learn from you that 
Nina’s father was a nobleman, a man of title and rank ?” 

“ He never spoke much about his family, sir, only so 
far that he gave every one to understand his father was 
a gentleman of high position in his own country. Any 
one could see that he himself, was a gentleman of birth 
and education. It was politics, I think, was the cause 
of the trouble; his father was opposed to the present 
dynasty, and his estates were confiscated. His father 
died in Paris. Nina has good blood in her veins, she 
was born in wedlock, an no better woman lived than her 
mother. She was of the working people, but honest, 
upright, intelligent, industrious, an virtuous: if these 
qualities count for anything. Before her mother died, 


140 BEVERLY OSGOOD } 

she left with me a package of papers, her marriage cet^- 
tificate, and a bundle of other papers, to be given Nina 
when she was of age. One day I was looking over some 
papers of my husband’s, and came across them. Nina 
happened to be in the room, at the time, and I then and 
there gave them to her, saying you are a better scholar 
than I, take and keep them, and some day, get a lawyer 
to have them read, for they were written in the Italian 
language. I think she had them on her person when 
she went away, for they are not to be found among her 
things. 

“ But I think our Nina is dead, I had a strange dream 
about her the other night ; I dreamed I saw her in a 
large room, surrounded by luxury, and brilliant with 
light. There was no person in the room but herself, 
an she was dressed all in white, an around her throat 
was a necklace of gems, that shone an sparkled like the 
sun’s rays falling on water, an her fingers were laden 
with the same shining jewels. But her face, when she 
turned it to me, looked like anything but tha face of 
a young girl, who had gone wrong. It was white 
like her dress, an more refined than when she was here 
safe at home with us. At first I meant to be angry with 
her, for all the mortification an suffernig she had caused 
mesel an Gene, but the memory of her mother, who I 
loved, an she hersel when a little thing, playin with 
Gene, an how she grew up to be such a fine girl, like her 
mother, so industrious, an good to me an lovin, prevented. 

“ My heart filled to burstin an I fell down upon my 
knees, an took her hand, to implore her to leave all this 
luxury an come home with me. An the jewels on her 
fingers blazed up in my face, like fiames an sparks from 
a wood fire, an she looked down on me with such mourn- 
ful eyes, an said, ‘ Mother, do you think I care for these 
rings and these gems, this house an luxury, you see here ? 
Oh, no, no, mother. Tell Gene I hate them, I could tear 
these from my neck, from my fingers, put them under 
my feet, an grind them to powder. Tell Gene,’ she went 
on, ‘ tell Gene.’ An with that I woke up, an my dream was 
so vivid, I could hear her voice for days after. In the 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 14! 

morning’ I told Gene about it, an I think she must be 
dead.” 

“ Oh, no, mother, Nina’s not dead. I think, though, 
she has left the city,” replied Gene. 

“ I do not think she is dead,” I said, “ or do I believe 
she has left the city, I feel that she is still in New York; 
have you ever taken any steps, Gene, to see Delano ?” 
I asked. 

“Yes, about three months after you left us, finding 
Nina did not come home, I called one day at the store 
to see him, he sent down word by the boy, to send up 
my card. ‘ Tell Mr. Delano I am not a society man or 
a business man, but a plain mechanic, and have no use 
for the article, but if he wants my name, it is Eugene 
Lunis ; I wish to see him on important business. ’ The boy 
came back with word that he was engaged, wished to be 
excused. I waited around for an hour, or two, thinking he 
would make his appearance about the store, but he must 
have suspected something, and kept out of sight. Mother 
said, it was providential I didn’t see him, and begged me 
not to go again, but I did, and was refused on the plea 
of being engaged. 

“ Then I made it a point to leave off work about eleven 
o’clock; I have four or five men now under my charge, 
the boss turned them over to me to look after. They 
are the best carpenters, and we do all the fine work, and 
if there is any very particular work to do, I do it myself. 
So I could leave my work. I waited about the store at 
noon, for nearly two hours, every day, for weeks, think- 
ing I might see him come out to go to lunch, or coming 
from it. I did the same in the evening, but failed to get 
even a glimpse of my man. I got Emma Cowen to find 
the street and number of his residence, you know he is 
married.” 

“Married!” I exclaimed, in astonishment, “it isn’t 
possible.” 

“ Yes, he has a wife and two children, so we learned. 
Mother kept constantly begging me to be patient and let 
things take their course, and your advice to me, Mr. Os- 
good, was not lost on me. I used to ponder over every 
word of what you said, and many a time when I came 


142 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


home at night from my work, and she was still missing, 
I would call myself a dastard, to let these small worldly 
considerations stand in the way of my having it out with 
him. I would cry to myself, I must leave all, give up 
all, and everything, and throw down the gauntlet to Ros- 
coe Delano. Watch for him, wait for him, track him to 
his home, and his haunts, and on sight kill him. 

“While my heart, was stung, to action by these thoughts, 
and the love I bore her, mother’s face would rise up be- 
fore me, and my duty to her would keep me back. I 
live in hopes, some day, though,” he went on, rising, and 
pacing the floor, “ of some day having money enough to 
make mother comfortable, then I will devote my life, to 
finding Nina Palermo.” 

Seldom a deep draught of sorrow s cup, is quaffed in 
early youth, or the fibres of a great love, torn from 
the breast. It is only in maturer years, when they have 
taken root, and wound their tendrils around the heart- 
strings, that when stricken, we either sink under the 
blow, or meet it bravely, and come out stronger, better, 
and nobler. Gene had scarcely seen his twenty-second 
year, the boy, just standing on the threshold of the man, 
when the blow came quick and sharp, as the thrust of a 
Damascus blade, piercing as it were to the very core of 
his heart. The love for his beautiful adopted sister, his 
affianced wife, who had grown up side by side with him 
from childhood, the days, months and years, twining 
and knitting this love closer and closer, until he felt the 
awakening of the first sweet boyish passion. 

To come home one evening, to find her gone, lost to 
him forever. This lovely pure girl, branded with a lie» 
a lie which every woman instinctively shrinks from, as 
she would the poison of an adder, for it slays, even if not 
guilty, all she holds dear. This crisis in his life, had 
stirred and quickened all his faculties to think and to feel, 
and the higher moral nature, which might have slum- 
bered and perhaps in time become dead to action, had 
gfrown and strengthened in the four years passed, and 
developed the boy of twenty-two, into the tall, slim, 
broad-shouldered, straigh-limbed man before me. With 
his knit brow, where the traces of conflict rested, in ver- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. I43 


tical lines between the eyes, which were keen, deep, and 
saddened by the tragedy, the first act of which had been 
played, with he himself one of the actors. 

How I admired him, as he walked the floor before me, 
wrestling with his splendid sorrow, a great love, stripped 
of all that is base, sensual, selfish, all that is merely pas- 
sion, the thing most men term love. It was one of those 
moments in which one feels their own deficiency; I 
wanted to rise, and throw back my shoulders, straighten 
out my limbs, and tell him I loved also, with a hope- 
less love, and I felt glad my uncle’s half-million of dol- 
lars was lost to me forever, like him, I would be made 
better by work, by being useful employing the gifts God 
gave me. 

“ I forgot to tell you that Emma Cowen informed us, 
that Delano is now one of the partners of the firm,” he 
said, still pacing the floor, “ you see his villainy does not 
seem to hurt him, such men prosper for a while, but it 
seems he has made fast strides to fortune.” 

“ I fear, my son, we are making Mr. Osgood’s visit 
rather sad for him,” said Mrs. Lunis, resting a kind glance 
on me, my face expressing much of the feeling that was 
passing through my mind and heart. 

“ I am deeply interested in whatever concerns your- 
self and Gene,” I replied, “ and my sympathy goes out 
to both you and him, in this affair of poor Nina’s. I 
will do all I can this summer in helping Gene to find 
her, if she is in New York City. There are doors open 
to me from old associations, and as a journalist, which 
would be closed to Gene, this may lead to some clue of 
her whereabouts, which will help us to her discovery.” 

“ Excuse me,” said Mrs. Lunis, rising and leaving the 
room, as she did she beckoned to Gene to follow her. 
In a little while she returned. “ Mr. Osgood, I am going 
to make bold enough to ask you to step out to the dining- 
room, to have a little lunch before going home. I would 
have brought it to you on a waiter, but I thought you 
would like a change of place, these rooms are so small 
and stuffy. I would rather have two or three good sized 
rooms than six of these little closets, sure they’re noth' 
ing but closets,” 


144 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


I told her that I was not only pleased to think she 
felt free enough to ask me into the dining-room, but I 
was delighted to go.” 

The table was spread with a snow white cloth, and 
set with pretty white china; after I was seated by Mrs. 
Lunis, she beckoned Gene to take a seat beside me. Our 
lunch was made up of a box of freshly opened sardines, 
of the best French brand, fresh cheese, pickles, soda- 
crackers, butter, a loaf of fruit cake, and a pitcher of 
iced lemonade. Mrs. Lunis poured into a dainty china 
cup, something better than all, and that was delicious 
coffee. I can sniff its flavor now as I write these lines. 

“ Mr. Osgood, you will certainly make mother vain, 
if you keep on saying all these nice things about her cof- 
fee, and her good cooking,” said Gene, smiling, as I ex- 
patiated upon its fine qualities. “ Mother is very ambi- 
tious,” he continued, looking with a sly twinkle in his 
eye, as she poured him out a glass of lemonade, “she 
will be wanting to leave her son, and engage to the Van- 
derbilts, as head cook,” and Gene laughed heartily. 

“ No indeed, indeed, all the money of the Vanderbilts, 
wouldn’t be inducement enough to leave you, my son. 
I have never lived under any one’s roof, but my father’s, 
an my husband’s, I married my husband in the old 
country, an now yours my son. Not but what there 
isn’t just as good father’s and mother’s daughters, obliged 
to go to service in rich people’s houses, as me, only I 
have been more fortunate.” We were interrupted here 
by a knock on the dining-room door, when Gene opened 
it, Emma Cowen and a little boy, about nine years old, 
entered. He carried in his hand one of those flat board 
trays, covered with white paper, and holding rows of 
chocolate creams, and chocolate nut candy, each one 
about as big as a Damson plum, like the molasses bull’s- 
eyes we used to buy when children. He was as straight 
as an arrow, with legs as thin. His face was as brown 
as a berry, and his small blue-gray eyes, shone out from 
under dark brows with an eager restlessness, mingled 
with a laughing intelligence. His closely cropped black 
hair, showed a curiously shaped head, running up like 
the large end of a pear, leaving ample room for brain, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. I45 


of a certain kind. His blue checked gingham waist and 
yellow crash knee pants, were somewhat soiled, and with 
the old straw hat he wore on his head, made up his at- 
tire. 

“ Here’s John Jacob Astor,’' said Emma, throwing 
herself into a chair, “ he tells me he hasn’t sold a cent’s 
worth to-night.” 

“ Not a cent,” said the boy, holding out his tray, and 
sidling up to Gene, “ ye see there isn’t one missin an 
Ma’ll give me Darby.” 

“Well, well, you will only have to. bestir yourself all 
the more to-morrow,” said Gene, lifting the boy’s hat 
off his head. 

With that the boy’s glance rested on me, and it seemed 
to have measured me, for with a movement quick and 
graceful as a cat, he slid away from Gene, around behind 
Emma Cowen, and with his eyes dancing, and holding 
up his tray, he began seemingly perfectly oblivious of 
where he was, in a high childish tenor, “ Candy, candy, 
nice fresh cream chocolates, chocolates, cent apiece, — 
cent apiece, — cream candy, — cream chocolates, — cream 
chocolates, — cent apiece, — cent apiece, — ” 

“ How much will you take for your whole cargo, and 
sing that song over again,” I asked laughingly. 

“Cent apiece, — cent apiece, — ” he sang out smiling, 
showing two even rows of white teeth. 

“Not any less to sell out late at night ?” 

“Cent apiece, — nice cream chocolates, — made fresh 
this morning, cent apiece.” 

“ How many have you ?” 

“ Thirty.” 

He grasped the three silver dimes from my hand, shut 
his thin fingers tightly over them, then turned to Mrs. 
Lunis. “ Won’t Ma be glad, Mrs. Lunis, an she’ll give 
me a heapin bowl of milk an bread for my supper.” 
With that he made a leap past Gene and Emma, and flew 
out the door. 

“ Pete come back, and thank the gentleman for buying 
you out, you would have had to go to bed without your 
supper, if he hadn’t bought you out.” 

He slipped back, put his head half way in the door. 


146 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


“ The gentleman knows it’s business, an not a thankin 
matter,” he said with a broad grin, and off with him, 
and up the stairs. 

“ That boy will never die poor,” remarked Gene, with 
a roar of laughter. 

“ Indeed he won’t,” answered Mrs. Lunis, “ his mother 
lives on the fourth floor, and makes all the candy herself, 
she is a clean, thrifty woman, and has three children 
younger than Pete, and the father peddles fruit.” 

“ This is Mr. Osgood, Emma, have you forgotten him ? 
You remember he lodged with us four years ago, an was 
with us when Nina went away,” said Gene. 

“ I knew his face the minute I entered the door, but 
we were so taken up with Pete and the candy that I 
waited for a break in the conversation to speak. Pete’s 
name is Jacob, so I added John and the Astor, for if 
ever there will be a second John Jacob Astor, he will be. 
As small a boy as he is, he has visions in his head now 
of millions of dollars.” And Emma’s small deep set 
eyes, twinkled with fun. 

Emma Co wen was one of those slim wiry women, she was 
now about twenty-eight years of age, and had improved 
much since I saw her for the first time, the evening Nina 
left home, which was the first and last time I saw her 
until to-night. She was very neatly dressed, and I could 
see that the four years passed had toned down much of 
what was then crude about her, she was good-hearted, 
and I should judge exceedingly practical, and more in- 
clined to the amusing side of life, than its serious side. 

“ Did Gene tell you that Roscoe Delano is now one of 
the partners of the dry goods firm, where I am employed ? 
We girls are all glad of it, in one sense, we don’t see so 
much of him, now. There is hardly a woman, in the 
work-room or behind the counters, or in any department 
of the house, but what hates and despises him, or a man, 
either, for that matter. Nina’s disappearance and the 
part he played in it, was whispered about the store, soon 
after she went away, and became common talk. Of 
course, fitting and trying on as I do the ladies’ dresses, 
I hear a great deal. You don’t mind me speaking before 
Mr. Osgood, Mrs. Lunis ?” 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. I47 


“ No indeed, Mr. Osgood couldn't ha shown more 
kindness an interest in this our trouble, even if he had 
been Gene's brother.” 

“ I knew he was in the family confidence, concerning 
Nina, which was the reason I spoke as I did. I don’t 
think Nina’s dead, or left the city, but I do believe this 
beautiful Countess, I hear so much about, is none other 
than Nina Palermo. Mrs. Lunis and Gene, pooh-pooh, 
at the idea, but you will see some day, I am right. I 
can see farther than a mile, if my eyes are small. Now 
Mr. Osgood, you go about a good deal among fashionable 
people, you must keep your eyes and your ears open, 
and be on the watch, for I feel sure you will hear or 
see something which will lead you to the discovery of 
Nina, and that this Countess is none other than Miss 
Palermo. I must go now, mother will wonder at me 
being out so late. Good-night, all,” and she left us, and 
went up the stairs, to her own apartments. 

In a few moments I rcse to take my leave, telling Mrs. 
Lunis how pleased I was to see herself and Gene, and 
how I enjoyed the evening greatly, and that I would do 
all I could during my stay in New York, to find our lost 
Nina. 

“ You will come again, Mr. Osgood, to see us, come 
often, you will be always welcome.” 

“ I will walk a few blocks with you,” said Gene, tak- 
ing his hat from a small ornamental rack, which hung in 
one corner of the dining-room. As I shook Mrs. Lunis’s 
hand, I wanted to kiss her, as I would my own mother. 
I was alone in the world, and I felt drawn closer than 
ever, to this mother and son. 

We had walked in silence, about half a block, when 
Gene turned to me and said, “ Mr. Osgood, do you think 
there can be any truth in what Emma Cowen says about 
this Countess being Nina. I think it’s all idle gossip, 
mixed with much of Emma’s own imagination.” 

“ There may possibly be a grain of truth in it. Nina 
is young and possesses unusual beauty, naturally intel- 
ligent, v/ith much strength of character, she is a girl, 
who though she felt she had taken a ttiisstep, would 


148 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


never sink, or become low, while perhaps not moral, she 
would be capable of playing a part.” 

“Yes, she would,” replied Gene, after a pause, “she 
was very bright, and very determined; she didn’t have 
so much education, and no accomplishments. We were 
poor people, and could not afford to give them to her. 
Mother sent her and myself to the public school, where 
she passed from the primary to the high school, where 
she went two years. That is all the education she or 
myself received.” After another long pause, he asked, 
“ Do you think this Delano is still mixed up with her 
life ?” 

“ I cannot say, if he is^ I pity him. Nina, from her 
nature, couldn’t but hate him, and hating him, she would 
leave nothing undone to ruin him, as he ruined all she 
loved, and held sacred.” 

“ You’re right, Mr. Osgood, well, I will leave you here, 
come again soon, and we will have many a long tramp 
together, this summer. Good-night.” 

“ Good-night, Gene.” 

I stood a moment, watching his tall, straight figure, 
making long quick strides down the street, until it was 
lost in the shadows of the great high dark houses, ard 
the sound of his footsteps upon the stone pavement, 
grew less and less, and died silently away. “ Poor Eu- 
gene,” I thought as I took the car, and I pitied myself, 
too, as we sometimes do. 


CHAPTER III. 

ALL THE INDIGNANT JEALOUS ANGER OF THE MAN 
IN ME ROSE UP AGAINST HER. 

A week after my visit to the Tunis’s, I met and was 
introduced to a Will Stebbins, a young reporter on the 
New York Herald. He himself, was a New Yorker, born 
and reared in the city, and a very bright fellow of twenty- 
five or six years. I invited him to lunch with me and we had 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. I49 


quite a talk. The Herald was then plunged in Gold 
Democracy. He wasa Bryanite himself, most of the young 
men of the Democratic party were. “ It’s not my fight,” 
he said, laughingly, “ when it comes to casting my vote, 
that’s another thing.” Then the conversation drifted 
to various topics, the theatres, and summer operas. He 
was quite enthusiastic over the young French actress, 
Anna Held, who had just come to New York, with a 
burlesque troupe from Paris. “ Sings like a bird, and 
dances like a fairy, and has eyes, hm-m — the most glori- 
ous dark eyes, hm-m,” and with that he looked at me 
and laughed, “they go right through a fellow, hm-m.” 
And he laughed again. “ He was writing her up for the 
Herald,” he said, and would give her a good send-off. I 
made an engagement to go with him that evening, and 
was to meet him on the comer of Thirty-third Street and 
Broadway, at half after eight. I had dined at a small 
restaurant on Ninth Avenue, one I had discovered by ac- 
cident; it was kept by a Frenchman, and was not only 
clean and homelike, but had a touch of the picturesque 
and artistic as well, with its singing birds, flowers and 
plants, also a talking parrot of great beauty of feather, 
hung in a gilded cage, over the counter. Besides, my 
order was always well filled and cooked to a nicety. The 
old Frenchman, who was as picturesque as his salle-a- 
manger^ evidently knew his business. 

After dinner, I returned to the house to change my 
light coat for one more suitable for the theatre, and to 
get my gloves and cane. When I finished dressing, I 
came down, seated myself on the front steps to finish 
my cigar, for I had at least half an hour or more before 
starting. The dusk was creeping on, and in a little while 
the electric lights on the avenues flamed up, crowding 
out the soft lingering twilight of the summer evening. 
The block the Quinton mansion stood on was a long 
one from avenue to avenue, and with the great high brown 
stone houses, most of them closed for the season, and the 
gas lamps far apart, gave it a very sombre appearance. 

I had seated myself about the middle of the steps, and 
as my eyes glanced towards Ninth Avenue, I was attracted 
by the tall fi^re of a woman^ walking towards me, I 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


150 

could not be seen as the railing of the steps hid me from 
view, and the balustrade was on a line with my hat. As 
she drew nearer I was struck with her bearing; the proud 
carriage of the head, the sweep of her garments, so un- 
like the modern street dress worn by woman, for hers 
seemed to hang in full free drapery, from her shoulders 
down to the toe of her shoe. When she reached about 
the middle of the block, she stopped, hesitated a moment, 
and looked about her (there was no other person on the 
square at the time), then down at her shoe (I supposed 
the string of her shoe, had come untied). As she stood 
there, her face was turned away from me, nor was she 
near enough for me to see it plainly, only in obscure 
profile. Besides instead of a hat, she wore tied about 
her head, a black lace scarf, such as Spanish or Italian 
ladies wear, its long loose ends hanging down her back, 
as if she had just mn out to a neighbor’s, or up to one 
of the shops on the avenue. 

As she came nearer I threw away my cigar, dipped my 
head, pulled my hat over my eyes, and slipped down a 
step lower, so as to have a good view of her face, as she 
passed me, but to my amazement, she stopped within 
a yard of the railing, looked about her again, and seeing 
no one, put her foot up on the stone coping which runs 
along the pavement inclosing the small court of the 
English basement, stooped down and tied her shoe-string. 
As she lifted herself up, the light from a gas lamp a few 
doors below me, shone full upon her face, — Heavens — 
it was the face of Nina Palermo, and her eyes, for an 
instant, without knowing it looked straight into mine. 

My heart gave a great thump, then seemed to stand 
still, the blood freezing in my veins, and as she passed 
on looking straight before her, I fought with myself to 
rise. Oh, I must follow her, I must, I must, I cried be- 
tween my shut teeth, at last I found strength to get up. 
She had nearly reached the corner, but I soon came close 
upon her. She crossed over where the Boulevard runs 
into Tenth Avenue,and walked until she came to a row of 
four or five new elegant -looking brown stone houses^ 
five stories high, with the English basement. This row 
stood not far from the river, and has a good deal of va- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. I5t 

cant ground about it, with some old residences on the 
opposite corner. She went up the steps of the last one 
of the row, towards the river, opened the door with a 
latch-key, and entered closing the door after her. There 
was a light in the hall and to my glad eyes, it showed 
the number on the glass above the vestibule entrance. 
The number was, No. — , West 8o S. — Street. 

I took out my notebook, and with a trembling hand 
wrote it down. Then I stood a moment, a thousand 
conflicting thoughts running through my mind. I 
walked up and down in front of the house, my brain all 
in a whirl, and my heart churning like mad, the blood 
seething to my temples, and almost blinding me. Once 
or twice I stopped before the front steps thinking I would 
go up and ring the bell, but I did not know what name 
to ask for. To ask for Miss Nina Palermo, would be to 
frighten her, to put her on her guard against those she 
wished to hide her identity from. No, the best thing to 
do would be to wait and see what a few days, or a week 
might bring forth. I must make my plans, and even 
Gene must not know, must not be told just yet. 

I must And out more about her life, was she the mis- 
tress of this splendid mansion, or only an inmate ? Or 
was she the Countess who Emma Cowen talked about ? 
Well, so far as her appearance went to-night, she might 
have been a royal Duchess, she looked so grand, so 
proud, so Juno-like, as she walked the pavement coming 
towards me. As I paced up and down, I grew more 
calm, then I observed through the slats of the dining- 
room windows, in the English basement, a dim light 
burning. I glanced from there to the floor above, and 
saw a black man who I took to be the butler, touch a 
match and light the gas in the drawing-room, then draw 
down the blinds and close the shutters, I could do no 
more to-night, and as I stood a second watching the 
great house, my blood ran through my veins again with 
the natural delicious warmth of youth, and a feeling of 
exultation such as I had never before experienced, held 
me spellbound for some moments. Yes, I, Beverly 
Osgood, had found the lost Nina, lost no longer, yet it 


iS2 


BEVERLY OSGOOD } 


had fallen to me to locate her. What would Gene say 
when I told him ? 

I thought then of my engagement with Stebbins, I 
looked at my watch, it was a quarter after eight, I would 
hurry to the station, take an elevated train down town, 
and not be more than a minute behind. 

“ I beg a thousand pardons,” I said, as I met my friend 
of a few days, standing at the foot of the stairway, “ I 
was unexpectedly detained. I hope I have not kept you 
waiting.” 

“ Don’t apologize, I have been here but a few moments, 
I had but to step from the Herald office, and you had 
to come quite a distance,” he answered. In a short while 
we were comfortably seated in the parquette of the thea- 
tre, three rows back from the stage. From our position, 
we had a good view of the whole house, and especially 
of all the private boxes. Stebbins was to wait for the 
first and second act only, as he was booked for several 
other theatres, I intended to see the play out. 

The house was crowded, the audience brilliant for a 
summer one. Who they represented in the New York 
world, I could not say, but they were very fashionable 
people. Those who had private boxes engaged, kept 
straggling in late. Anna Held had made her appear- 
ance in one song, and had left the stage, when Sir Rod- 
erick came on. I cast my eyes over the audience, and 
observed that the private boxes in the dress circle were 
all occupied but one in the center to my right. Just 
then there seemed to be a hush in the crowd, then I 
observed the turning of heads from the stage to the 
right, and the levelling of opera glasses. I turned also 
to look; as I did, my glance rested on the box, which a 
few seconds before was empty. I fell back in my seat, 
my arms hanging at my side, my eyes riveted on the 
box. “ It is she,” I cried inwardly, “or is it a dream, 
or am I mad ?” For there in the box was Nina Palermo, 
and the handsome dark man in evening dress with her, 
was none other than my friend of years, Bertram Ar- 
lington. 

Shall I ever forget her, as I saw her there in the midst 
of that brilliant throng, in the full glare of the electric 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 153 


light; it recalled Mis. Lunis’s dream of her to my mind. 
On West 80 — S. — Street, she wore all black, but now she 
was robed all in white, and looked to have grown two 
feet taller, in the last four years, and her form had ma- 
tured in proportion. As she seated herself, she threw 
back off her shoulders, a mantle of white silk and lace, 
then I had a better view of her face. 

How changed since I saw it first, the night long ago, 
when I occupied the little parlor in her mother’s apart- 
ment, and played eavesdropper, and from the jar of the 
door, saw the dark girlish head silhouetted against the 
dim light, which came from the dining-room window. 
It was the physical beauty then, such as a baby, a child, 
or any young animal might have. But now the tragedy 
of that awful day, that hour in old Waite’s office, where 
she stood with all a woman’s outraged sensibilities, and 
threw back the lie in Delano’s face, that he had branded 
her with. Then again hours later, when she stood at 
midnight, alone in front of that tall dark house, the con- 
flict with herself, before taking the step which was to 
lead her where ? All the passion, hate, suffering and 
agony of those hours, and the cost to her of the final 
resolve. All the poetry, and emotions of her life since, 
had been cutting and fashioning for the last four years, 
this strange and wonderful beauty, leaving their stamp 
upon her face, in which all the color of that time had 
left cold and white, as the dress she now wore. 

But the great black eyes were there, their long black 
lashes, which threw a faint shadow over the cheek. The 
thick braids of lustrous hair were coiled on the neck 
back of the ear, and a bandeau of pearls clasped the curls 
on the low broad brow. A fiat collar of pearls with the 
flash of large diamonds here and there, clasped her fair 
throat. But it was not her rare and costly jewels, or her 
rich silken robes, her unusual and striking beauty, the 
seemingly indifference to all and everything about her, 
but that indefinable something which marks and sets 
apart the few men and women of the world, from their 
kind, and which is beyond the power of pen to describe. 

Bertram sat bending over her; with the exception of 
a smile now and then, that showed the lovely teeth, and 


1 54 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


the arch of the short tipper lip, the flashes of intellect 
expressed in every feature of her face, and move of her 
body, her bearing towards him was cold and haughty. 
He had changed greatly in the last four years, he was 
handsomer than ever, and had washed off all traces of 
the boy, home, and the country. Perhaps the heart and 
the affections were the same, but under more control, 
kept more in reserve. Yet to me who had known him 
since his eighteenth year, the city had done its work, it 
was the finishing school, and I could see had turned him 
out the elegant young man of the world. 

The simple affections in which the heart plays a part 
were gone, or hidden under the polished exterior, but 
the passions were all alive. And whatever their rela- 
tions were, Bertram Arlington was now suffering the 
pangs, as well as its little joy, of the passion of his life and 
manhood, and this passion was for Nina Palermo. Yes, I 
could see in the lingering wistful gaze, as he bent over 
her, and the darkness which would cloud his face, as she 
with an imperious turn of the head, would look away 
from him. If the consciousness of his indifference to the 
audience, the play, his efforts to please, to watch her 
every move, to listen with attentive ear, touched him 
for a moment with burning shame, he would then turn 
his face away from her to the stage, only to turn it back 
again, with an expression in the eyes, of a hungry ani- 
mal kept at bay, that dare not touch the food that lies 
so temptingly before it. The look men have when the 
passion for an adored object is all aflame, yet is baffled 
at every step, and the woman is the master of the situ- 
ation. All the indignant jealous anger of the man in me, 
rose up against her, who was she, this wanton, this cruel 
woman; was she going to be the destroyer of the friend 
and companion of my boyhood, the lover of the fair and 
pure Clarise ? This manly and big hearted Bertram, 
with his fine mental gifts, who in my boyish fancy I used 
to liken to some Roman senator, in the future filling 
the same position in his own country. Never, I could 
not bear it, I would not have it so. I would put forth 
all the power in me to stop it. 

But alas, alas, other thoughts rushed upon me. Was she 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. IJg 


not made what she was by his kind, by my own sex I 
Was she not branded with the mark of the scarlet woman 
by two men, old enough to be her father ? Did her in- 
nocence, her youth, her beauty, helplessness, appeal to 
them in any way ? Had she not been thrust out from 
her place among her companions, her friends, from among 
good women, because she would not sell her honor to 
the very man who was her accuser, to be one more of 
that awful army of lost women, who, like birds of the 
night, with wings outspread, swoop down upon the great 
city’s streets, seeking whom they may destroy ? 

Did they heed her cry, to spare her from the damnable 
accusation, that would send her adrift into the streets ? 
No wonder the iron of hate and revenge entered her 
heart and soul, and she vowed to be the destroyer of 
every man who came into her life, in the future. She, 
it appears, was one of the few of the many of old Waite’s 
and Delano’s victims, who kept above the slums, and 
the mire. Ah, yes, from her appearance on West 8 o — 
S. — Street, in the rustle of her black silken drapery, the 
great house I saw her enter, and now as she sat beside 
a son of an old, and wealthy family, a vision in white, 
a very queen, in her regal beauty and intellect, there 
was no trace of one who had fallen low, at least from 
the physical and material sense. 

But all was mystery to me. Where did Bertram ever 
meet her, what chance threw them together ? Where 
was Delano, and what part had he played in her life, since 
the door of the dark house on 20 — F — St. closed upon 
her ? Or was she Emma Co wen’s Countess ? All these 
thoughts were riinning through my mind, when I was 
brought to myself, by Stebbins nudging my elbow, and 
asking me if I were ill. 

“Oh, no,” I answered, “just a little surprised. 

“ Acquainted with parties in the middle box, above 
you, to the right ^ Quite a swell couple. The girl is 
beautiful. New York has fine, stunning looking women, 
dress well and all that sort of thing. But when you go 
about as much as I have, you will take it as a matter of 
course.” 

“It will be I'homme blazi with me, then,” I replied 


1^6 


BEVERLY OSGOOD { 


laughing at this man of twenty-six, with all the freslv 
ness of things rubhed off. “ I am too much of a philoso* 
pher,” I added, “ to become weary of life; like the Greeks, 
I hope to avoid satiety, therefore I will never tire of the 
beauty and joy of living.” 

“ Ah,” returned Stebbins, with a chuckle, “ I thought 
you were no western greeny. I tell you Ogsood, we 
New Yorkers get awfully taken in by you western boys, 
you see, like the Parisians and Londoners, a New Yorker 
comes to think there’s nothing worth caring for on this 
side of the wata, but New Yawk.” 

“ Oh it’s a big town, no mistake about that,” I replied 

“ Will see you again soon, you’ll stay until the play is 
over.” 

“You have my number and address, au revoir,” I 
called after him, as he left the seat, and went through 
the aisle. I settled down in the corner of my seat, and 
remained there until the curtain rang down on the third 
act, the fourth act was the last. I stayed until the middle 
of the fourth act, and left the theatre, intending to wait 
outside until the play was over; I lit a cigar, and sta 
tioned myself in an angle of the building near the door 
I hadn’t been there more than a few moments, when one 
of the messengers came and whispered something to the 
porter outside, and he called out a number of a carriage, 
and a fine spanking pair of bays, with gold mounted 
harness, an elegant landeau, with footman and livery 
were drawn up, and Bertram escorting Nina, entered the 
carriage, and they were driven away. I stood a few 
moments, debating in my mind, whether to call a cab, 
and follow them, but what use, I had located her, and 
knew where Bertram’s law office was, I could find him, 
any day, or hour, I chose to call on him. But to see her, 
was another matter. I could do no more to-night, but 
go home, and think it all out. 

In a few moments, I was on a Sixth Avenue elevated car, 
speeding on my way home, and in a little while I was 
in my own room, at the Quinton mansion. Now whether 
it would be false or not to Gene, I must keep the dis- 
covery of Nina, a secret for the present, I must first solve 
the mystery which surrounds her. How came she to 


OR, when titE OREAT city is aware. t57 


this wealth, this place ? Surely men like Bertram with 
family of the highest position, could not afford even in 
a large city, like New York, to run the risk of being 
seen in public, with the beautiful and fashionable mis- 
tress of another man. Where was Delano ? kept re- 
peating itself in my mind, for hours after I had retired. 
Was it his money she was spending so lavishly ? Was 
she carrying out the revenge, she had sworn to do, to 
make him suffer, and curse the hour he had ever seen 
her, was she doing this now ? I must find some way to 
see her, and the way I told my tired brain, was to go 
to call on Bertram, tell him all, and ask him to take me 
to see her, as soon as possible. 

So my fair Nina, in a short while I shall know all. Gene 
said he would recognize you in any guise, would he have 
known you to-night, as you sat in the midst of all that 
brilliant throng, the observed of all ? Hardly, because 
his mind had formed other images of you. 

It was nearly daybreak, when I fell into a deep sleep, 
and was only awakened by old Michael knocking at my 
door, to ask if I wanted anything, which was a habit 
with him. “ I thought mabe ye ware sick, yere ginerally 
up betimes in the mornin 

“ I didn’t get to bed, and asleep, until late, Michael; 
what time is it now ?” 

“ Eight o’clock, sur, an eight o’clock, of a summer 
mornin’ is late sure. Well is there anything I can do 
for ye ?” 

“ Not unless you take my shoes and give them a brush- 
ing, and my pants and light coat there.” I knew Michael 
wanted a tip, and a dime and a quarter, made his bleary 
eyes dance. He liked his drop, and his tobacco. 

I made haste and dressed, and breakfasted at the 
Frenchman’s, and at ten o’clock was going down the 
steps of the Park Place station. Bertram’s office was in 
the Tribune Building, and in a few moments I was there. 
Bertram had not yet come, it was his hour, and he was 
expected every minute, so the young man in the office 
Informed me. 

“ Anything I can do for you sir ?” he asked, and when 
I answered no, that I wished to see Mr. Arlington in 


158 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


person, he invited me into a private room, to await his 
coming. I had my head turned, looking out of the win- 
dow, when I heard a voice I would have recognized 
anywhere, or in any crowd, exclaim, “ Goodness gracious, 
I be switched if it isn’t Beverly, in the flesh ! Well dear 
old boy, this is just like you, to drop down from the 
clouds. Why didnt you wire a fellow, but come to think 
there are no wires up in cloudland,” and we both laughed, 
and shook hands heartily. 

“ When did you arrive ?” 

“ About three weeks ago.” 

“ And never dropped in or let a fellow know you were 
in town. Up to your old tricks, I bet. Where now Bev- 
erly, up in some attic or down in some basement on the 
east side,” and we both laughed heartily again. 

“ Oh, no my dear sir, I was never more princely housed, 
except in your father’s palace, at Anlace. I ran across 
an old friend of uncle’s, at the Brunswick, the morning 
after I arrived here, he was a resident of my city, before 
he moved to New York. He sat opposite to me at the 
breakfast table, and recognized me before I did him ; he 
was going to leave for the West that day, and I had just 
come East. After I had informed him of my plans, and 
what I had been engaged in since my uncle’s death, and 
my purpose in coming to New York, he offered me the 
hospitality of his house on West 8o — S. — Street. He was 
going as far as California, and would be gone all sum- 
mer, and I expected to remain here for the same length 
of time, and perhaps longer.” 

“ Quinton, Quinton, he lives on West 8o — S — Street, 
father knows him well, he and his wife have been to 
Anlace a number of times. She’s musical, and some- 
thing of an invalid, a pretext they say for living abroad 
a good deal. So that is your address.” 

“Yes, I have full swing there, I can meander around 
the streets all night, and no one to say a word, but old 
Michael and his wife, the caretakers of the big mansion, 
under whose protection Mr. Quinton left me. Michael 
is a shrewd old fellow, he pretends to exercise over me 
un corps du garde^ and I humor him, by dropping a shin- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 59 


ing eagle in his palm, now and then. I am a Itlcky dog 
in many ways, and nnlucky in others.” 

“Well so you’re not unlucky in love, you are blessed,” 
he answered, laughing, but his laugh, sounded to me 
somewhat forced. 

“Cupid, the young scamp, seems to fight shy of me, 
but you, I considered when here before, to be one of the 
most fortunate of men, in that respect.” He rose from 
his chair, turned his back to glance over some papers, 
his clerk brought in, and I thought as he did he sighed. 

“ My dear Beverly,” he said as the young man left the 
room, “perhaps I was and perhaps I am yet. Clarise is 
as constant as Penelope, she goes on weaving, and un- 
raveling at night, what she weaves by day. .Well we 
were never betrothed, that is one thing I am pleased 
over now, but as my sister Jeanette says, men are strange 
animals, I fear we have not the loyalty of women. But 
isn’t this a strange freak, you being here, I thought you 
would be up to your eyes in politics, now that the presi- 
dential campaign is on, or like Bryan, have you come to 
fight us on our own ground ?” 

“ I am out of a job, I left the paper I was on, after 
I had reported the Chicago Convention, I could not 
conscientiously work for what I did not believe. There 
is no paper here out and out for silver and Bryan, but 
the Journal. The World, and the Herald, and all the 
many evening papers as well as the Times, are all for 
the single gold standard, therefore for McKinley. You 
are a Republican and of course a McKinley man.” 

“ Now Beverly,” he said, with his old affectionate 
smile, “ supposing your uncle had not been unfortunate 
in business ventures, and you had come into your million 
or half-million of dollars, which to be yours, don’t 
you think you would be on the side of the single gold 
dollar ?” 

“ Never,” I answered, hotly. “ I can’t see the justice 
of any nation wanting to cramp and fetter half of its 
territory, and people; the toiler, producer and farmer, 
so that the few may rule. We are a large country, and 
require a great deal of money. Silver and gold has al- 
ways been the money of every civilized nation, as far 


i6o 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


back as we can trace. Silver and gold should be on a 
par, the white metal even dominating the yellow, because 
it is the more durable. Nature itself has made them 
twin brothers, and there is no natural law, or philosophy, 
bywhich we can separate them,and make the yellow metal 
tyrant of the white. To make laws, to debase silver, 
and cause the shrinkage of money to such a degree that 
it cripples.the masses, and invest the few with power to 
put the yoke around the necks of the many who toil, is 
a crime. Some men when they taste a little of material 
power (for I don’t acknowledge money to be power in 
its true sense), never know when to stop. Like Napo- 
leon the First, they keep on going, and their thirst for 
this little pettiness becomes insatiable, and when they 
think they have reached the highest pinnacle of their am- 
bition, a higher power steps in and topples them over, 
and great is the fall thereof.” 

“ Bravo,” cried Bertram. 

“ Then you are with us,” I said, jumping to my feet, 
and stepping over to where he sat, I laid my hand on 
his shoulder, “ I knew you could not have changed so 
much from the friend I had at college.” 

“ Yes, Beverly, I am with you heart and soul, but not 
on the money question. You must come and hear me 
speak, Bryan is to be here next Thursday, Governor 
Altgeld of Illinois, is to follow, and I come in a week 
from next Tuesday.” 

“Well old boy, if that is the case we will put politics 
aside for this morning, I did not come to talk politics, 
Bertram, if you will just give me a little while longer of 
your time,” I said, closing the door. “ It was not my 
intention to let you know I was in New York,” I began, 
resuming my seat “ at least not until the fall, but some- 
thing has happened, which I need your help to unravel. 
It is a long sad story, my dear fellow, a tragic one. You 
may not aid me, you may think I am encroaching upon 
delicate ground, intruding upon your private affairs. 
But I make bold to appeal to our friendship of other days, 
when we were boys at school, and our friendship now 
as men, and the love I bear you.” 

“ Now Beverly, dear boy, what is it,” he said, with 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. l6l 


surprise and amazement expressed in every feature of 
his handsome face, “give me all your confidence, ask 
me anything, and say anything you want, but for good- 
ness sake don’t tell me you have murdered some one, 
and have come to ask me to defend you, for criminal law 
is not in my line.” We both laughed. 

“ Oh, it’s not quite so bad as that,” I answered. Then 
I related to him, the whole story of Nina, beginning four 
years back, from the time I first rented the little suite of 
rooms in the summer of 1892 from her mother, in the ten- 
ement house, on the east side, on 20 — F. — Street, between 
Second Avenue and the river front. Then I described to 
him the family of Mrs. Lunis, Gene her son, how inter- 
esting they were to me, what fine qualities, of mind and 
heart, were theirs. How I discovered the young girl, 
who Mrs. Lunis guarded so jealously, her beauty, her 
place at the large store, that she was Mrs. Tunis’s adopted 
daughter, her father an exiled Italian nobleman, who 
married her mother, an Irish-American girl, herself 
handsome, healthy, and strong, and that this girl was 
the fruit of their union. The father dying, and the 
mother dying shortly after, leaving the little nine year 
old girl to Mrs. Lunis. Of Gene, her adopted brother, 
what a fine honest manly fellow he was. And how I 
followed her the night she was to go to the excursion 
with Delano, her running away from him, when she found 
he had deceived her. Then the trial at the store, the 
morning after, before Delano, and old Waite. 

That Delano had branded her with a lie, and that she 
had never returned to her home, or had ever been seen 
since by her mother, or brother, though he had searched 
New York from its center to its circumference. I dwelt 
upon the suffering of her mother, and the splendid Gene, 
for his sister, his fiance. The time I had to keep him 
from killing Delano, and how on my return here this 
summer, I had called at the Tunis’s and found them still 
mourning for the lost girl. She had never been seen or 
heard from, although Gene had kept up the search for 
her, and how they had almost given her up as one dead. 
And now I continued, relating the incident of the tying 
of the shoe-string on the stone coping, as I sat on the 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


162 

front steps of the Quinton mansion, smoking and waiting 
to keep my engagement to go to see Anna Held, with the 
young reporter. How I rose and followed her home, 
but had to keep my appointment with young Steb- 
bins, and that I had not been long at the theatre, when 
I was nearly struck dumb, by seeing my old friend Ber- 
tram Arlington enter the middle box to my right, with 
Nina Palermo, the lost Nina. 

“What,” he cried, jumping to his feet, “Nina, the 
Countess Palermo, the lost girl, you have been telling 
me about ? Oh, impossible, Beverly, impossible.” 

“No, my dear fellow, the young woman I saw on 
West 80 — S. — Street, and followed to her home. No. — , 
and the one you escorted to the theatre last evening, is 
none other than Nina Palermo, the daughter of the Ital- 
ian nobleman, and the adopted daughter of Mrs. Lunis, 
therefore the missing girl. Now Bertram, tell me how 
long since you first met her, where you met her, and 
how you ever came to get acquainted with her ?” 

“ Give me time Beverly, give me time,” he said, look- 
ing pale, and placing his hand to his forehead, as he 
rose and began to pace rapidly up and down the floor. 
“What you have told me is such a surprise. I have 
been living under a different impression of the girl. 
To begin with,” he said after a few moments, and seat- 
ing himself again, “ about three years ago, the lady you 
saw with me in the box at the theatre last evening, came 
to my office, in company with a gentleman, it was about 
a month before he bought the house No. — you referred 
to just now, and wished me to transfer the deed to Miss 
Nina Palermo. The row of houses, of which this No. — 
is the last was built by my father’s agent. At first I 
thought the man was the girl’s father, although they 
bore no resemblance to each other, and when he came 
to give his name as Deland, I think, but you call him 
Delano, I knew then they were no father and daughter, 
besides I observed while he was remarkably shrewd in 
a business way, he acted very strangely towards the girl. 
One moment he would appear as if he was madly and 
insanely in love with her, and the next moment as if he 
could kill her from the same mad jealousy. While her 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 16^3 

manner towards him, was frigidly proud and haughty. 
Once I caught a look in hei eyes, as they rested a second 
on his face, and I can never forget it (I would never 
want a woman to look at me in that way), it was so 
full of scorn and loathing, and positive hate. 

“ They went away, and I could not forget them, at 
least not her. I thought her the most beautiful, the 
most magnificent creature in the way of femininity I had 
ever seen. It was not just her beauty, Beverly, a man 
meets many physically handsome women in New York, 
but the delicacy, refinement, and archness of her man- 
ner, and back of it, character, force intellect, the superior 
woman ; all this tinged with a melancholy, which gave 
her an unspeakable charm. And the puzzle of it all 
was, what relationship existed between this strange 
pair ? And it was what haunted me for days, and dur- 
ing these days, I lived upon the constant wish, and hope, 
that she would come to my office again. 

“Well about three months after, she did call one 
morning, she came alone, and brought with her a bundle 
of papers, she wished me to look over, one was the mar- 
riage certificate of her father and mother, the other 
papers belonged to her father, and were written in the 
Italian language. I asked her to leave them and I would 
look them carefully over, and call upon her if agreeable; 
she appointed an evening, and after a short conversation 
she went away. The second interview seemed to dis- 
pel for awhile the first impression I had of her relations 
to this man Delano, but we will speak of this another 
time. 

“ I was not proficient enough in the Italian language 
to thoroughly digest, and understand the contents of 
the papers. So I had them examined by an educated 
Italian gentleman, who does that kind of work, and is 
himself, a descendant of an old Italian family. It seems 
that the father of Miss Palermo’s father, ’was Count 
Leanto Palermo, whose estates are in Lombardy ; the old 
Count, it seems was opposed to the policy of King Hum- 
bert, after he came to the throne. He was accused of 
treason by the Viscount Junta, fearing arrest and im- 
prisonment, he fle-d to Paris, where after several years 


164 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


his eldest son, Miss Palermo’s father, followed him , he 
was then just from the military school, his youngest son, 
remaining at school. The old Count’s estates were con- 
fiscated, and the older son, came to America to seek his 
fortunes. While here he married as you know. But 
before he died, and while sick, word came to him of the 
death of his father, then he took worse, and a few days 
before he died, a letter came from Humbert, asking the 
return of the eldest son, to his country, his estates, and 
his King. 

“ He was dying at the time, and said nothing to his 
wife, of what happened or the contents of the letters, 
but rolled them up and handed them to his wife, and 
told her to hold them for their daughter. I called upon 
Miss Palermo, on the evening appointed, with the papers, 
and read them to her. I told her the only thing to do 
now was to write to Rome, and send copies of the papers. 
After spending a delightful evening with her, I returned 
to the hotel, and in a few days as soon as the copies 
could be written, they were sent to Rome. In about 
two months, there came a package from the High Judge 
of His Majesty Humbert’s court, which stated, that the 
younger brother of Count Leonto was in possession of 
the estates, and title. The entailed estates went to the 
male heirs, but the income from his father’s private 
property, would go to the oldest son, and from him to 
his daughter. An income from his mother’s estate, 
would go to his daughter, also, and be paid quarterly, 
and her right to use her father’s title. Since then I have 
been a frequent visitor to her house, she has never told 
me anyftiing of her former history; only that she was 
brought up by this friend of her mother’s, that they were 
like sisters, which is all she ever said.” 

There was silence for a moment, then I asked him, 
if he would grant me the favor to take me with him, the 
next time he called on her. 

“Certainly,” he answered, with a slight hesitation, 
then smiled and added, “if you will promise me not to 
fall in love with her.” 

“ I will assure you, that there is no danger of that. 
I didn’t when I first met her, I might have if I allowed 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 165 


myself to drift into it, but my mind was so bent on my 
purpose, and so full of other things, that I had no time 
for love-making, and I am sure I will not now, although 
she is far more beautiful in every sense, than she was 
four years ago.” 

“ Her ‘ At home ’ evenings, to her friends, are Sat- 
urdays, but I am going to-night. I have some business 
of hers, I wish to see about, suppose you come along ?” 

“ Oh, most gladly,” I answered. 

“ I will call for you about eight, this evening, do you 
think she will recollect you, Beverly ?” 

“Hardly; she didn’t see enough of me to remember 
me, besides I have changed much; I have grown larger 
and more mature, I look ten years older, than I did at 
that time. She will never suspect me of being her 
mother’s parlor lodger, just introduce me as a friend of 
yours.” 

“ I shall be delighted to do so, then we can talk mat- 
ters over after you have met her in her home. There 
is much I wish to say to you which concerns her and 
myself, but I see the office is filling up and there are 
clients waiting. I have a number of things to attend to 
for father, so be on hand this evening.” 

I left him with a swelling heart, with the glad an- 
ticipation of soon standing face to face with the lost 
Nina, and in a little while to bring the glad news to 
Gene, that I had found her. 


CHAPTER IV. 

I STAND BEFORE HER WITH BOWED HEAD. 

At about a quarter after eight, Bertram and myself, 
stood at the front door of No. — , West 80 — S. — Street, the 
residence of Nina, Countess Palermo. Our ring was 
soon answered by the black butler, I saw the evening 
before light the gas in the drawing-room. He treated 


i66 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


Bertram with all the civility and servility, of one who 
was a frequent visitor to the house, but looked me over 
as if he were taking an inventory of everything I wore, 
and my whole personal ensemble. Then he reached out 
a small silver tray, Bertram placed his card on it, so did I. 

The decoration of the house, was something on the 
same order as Mr. Quinton’s, the difference being in the 
furnishing. The whole effect as I entered the grand 
salon parlor, was of a golden silvery sheen, something 
like what we see in the eastern sky, of a morning when 
the sun is half obscured by a gray hazy film. Such 
were the chairs, sofas, divans, in their rich brocades, and 
the soft silken hangings, the deep pile of Turkish carpet, 
the lovely Oriental rugs, the walls, on which hung ex- 
quisite works of art, in oil paintings, and water colors. 
Bertram threw himself into a chair of satin brocade, but 
I with my usual fondness for looking at things, inspected 
the pictures, which I found were all selected with the 
greatest care, and taste. They were mostly figures and 
landscapes, and bore the names of some well-known 
New York artists, and others who were not so well 
known, but their work was equally as good. None were 
large, and mixed here and there, were some small gems, 
of water colors and etchings. 

The bric-a-brac, also showed taste, and the delicacy 
of feminine eyes, which possesses an inherent love of 
the beautiful, as well as color. I strayed into the li- 
brary, which led off the salon, and which runs across 
the back of the house, taking in the hall, as nearly all 
the tall New York houses do. Ah, here was a room 
that some woman had made her own, while like the 
parlor, in effect of golden and silver hues, it was en- 
tirely original in its furnishing. In one corner stood a 
large bookcase filled with books, in the opposite corner, 
a piano, guitar, mandolin, a violin, and a beautiful harp. In 
the large windows, were cushioned rests, and standing 
about the polished oak floor, with its rich Oriental rugs, 
were easy chairs, lounges; pictures hung on the walls, 
and some fine pieces of statuary stood about on pedestals. 
A large table of carved antique oak stood in the center, 
covered with a creamy satin cloth, upon it were papers, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 167 


new books, stationary, gold pens, and gold and silver 
inkstands. I picked up one of the silver inkstands to 
examine it, as it appeared to be a curious and artistic 
piece of workmanship, and to my surprise I saw engraved 
upon it the crest and monogram of the Countess Palermo. 

And so it was on the lamps, trays of silver, holding 
the Venetian cut glasses, the beautiful ware that filled 
the cabinets, of carved wood, which stood in the corners, 
and panels of the wall. I then turned to the mantel- 
piece of carved Italian marble, done by an Italian, it was 
a work of art in itself. “What a pity,” I thought, as I 
stood admiring it, “that the rich who build fine houses 
don’t spend more money for this kind of work.” Among 
the bric-a-brac, and photographs of friends, I saw a small 
cheap one of Eugene Lunis,taken when a boy of seventeen 
or eighteen, in his working dress. Yes, there he was, 
the strong honest face, the clear keen, blue eyes, the 
small but finely-shaped head. Oh, yes, I would recog- 
nize Gene anywhere. And oh, Nina, if I had doubts 
before of the Countess Palermo, being one and the same 
Nina, the adopted daughter of Mrs. Lunis, and the sis- 
ter of Gene, for it seemed so much like a dream to me, 
I had positive proof now, that the woman I would see 
in a few seconds was none other than the lost Nina. 

I laid the photograph back in its place, returned to the 
salon, and was greeted by Bertram with a low amused 
laugh, as I threw myself into a large easy-chair near him. 
We were talking in a desultory way about this and that, 
when I caught the rustle of drapery, and the light foot- 
steps of a woman, coming down the stairs. My heart 
leaped to my throat and almost choked me, the hot blood 
burned my cheeks and temples, and for a moment blinded 
my eyes. When I came to myself, she was just entering 
the salon. 

“ I thought,” she remarked, holding out her hand to 
Bertram, “that you were so full of chagrin at that tire- 
some play last night, I would not see you again for a 
week.” She laughed lightly. Bertram had risen, I also; 
when he presented me, her glance met mine, for a mo- 
ment she seemed to me to give a slight start, and I saw 
her cheek color faintly, but whatever her thought was 


BEVERLY OSGOOD : 


168 

she put it aside from her, and welcomed me with a dig*- 
nified, yet womanly gracionsness, which pleased me ex- 
ceedingly. She rolled np a chair, and beckoned to ns 
to be seated, then seated herself. 

She wore a dark reddish gown of rich satin, more of 
the Pompeiian color. Covering the bodice was black 
silk tnlle, which came np over the low snrplice waist, 
in indescribable pnffs and rnffles, high about her white 
neck. The sleeves were of the black tnlle, and came 
just to her elbow . Upon her arms and neck, were 
heavy bands of dead gold, the blue- white flame of a 
priceless stone, as large as a hazelnut, flashing here and 
there. A fillet of gold clasped the curls on her brow, 
and caught the heavy black braids back of the ear. She 
looked to be all drapery, and floating black gauze, as she 
reclined in her chair. 

“ Mr. Arlington spoke of you, in his note to me to-day, 
as a friend of his from the West. I suppose you find 
New York something surprising in the way of a city.” 

“Well yes,” I answered, with a smile, “it has most 
pronounced characteristics of its own, so have our western 
cities, for that matter. But New York, being the great 
metropolis of the country, the New York people,” (I 
gave her a gracious smile), think, of course, there is noth- 
ing to be seen worth seeing outside of their city.” 

“ I hoped Beverly, by this time, had become a cos- 
mopolite, but as often as he has been coming to and 
from our city, and living here for months at a time, his 
love for the West, is still paramount, and his western- 
isms still stick,” said Bertram teasingly. 

“Yes, like the bark on the tree, they are hidebound,” 
I answered, laughing. 

“ Why I think there is no place in the world like New 
York,” said Nina, wondering that any one should ques- 
tion its resources for all things pertaining to the wants, 
comforts, pleasures, and joys, of the genus homo. “ There 
is everything to see here,” she continued, “ and we get 
the first of everything in the way of the table: game, 
poultry, fish, flowers, fruit. And for wearing apparel, 
we have all the first fashions, the first chance to select 
from the foreign and domestic fabrics. And for the in- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 60 

tellect, we have the first of the new books, plays, operas, 
and in art, all the new paintings, and if yon want spirit- 
ual food, here in the churches, we have some of the 
brightest minds.” 

“You have Parkhurst,” I said. She smiled. 

“Oh, I love New York,” she went on; “why I don’t 
like to leave it long enough to go to the seashore, during 
the hot months; a few weeks, is all I can endure Long 
Branch at a time. I’m going down in a few days, for 
two or three weeks. About two years ago, I was obliged 
to go abroad for five or six months, the trip was on busi- 
ness, as well as pleasure. Of course I wished to see my 
father’s country, the home of my ancestry on his side: 
fair, beautiful Italy, land of poetry, painting and song. 
I did not know but what I would make it my home. 
But I became wretchedly homesick, for New York. I 
am American born, and American reared; I could not 
live out of New York. City. I am going to Long Branch 
in a few days, I should like you to come down with Mr. 
Arlington, some time during my stay there, and if you 
can’t make it convenient to come to the seashore, I 
shall be pleased to see you at my ‘ At home,’ then you 
can find the way yourself. My world, is not a large one; 
you will meet but a few choice spirits, they go to make 
up my salon. Some artists, litterateurs, one or two 
journalists, one or two bankers, and a mixture of the 
legal lights,” and she looked at Bertram and smiled, 
tossed her head, then laughed a low laugh, as if teasing 
him. How charming she was; her whole manner and 
expression of face, told back of her proud hateur, she 
was the simple girl, still. 

“ There is but one other woman and myself,” she con- 
tinued, “and she is an elderly lady, a Madame Sloan, 
a companion who resides with me.” She glanced at 
Bertram again, then dropped her eyes, and it seemed to 
me the last sentence v/as spoken in a tone of sadness. 

For a second my eyes rested on my friend’s face, it 
told its own story, and the story was, that the heart of 
the man, had gone out in all its fullness and depths of 
love, to the woman who was seated before him. I pitied 
him, from my soul, for I saw how hopeless his love was, 


170 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


and I think Nina herself, pitied him, but she did not love 
him then. Oh, no, the heart under that white heaving 
bosom, had been seared and lacerated, the poisoned 
dagger had pierced it, and the proud noble nature of the 
girl, had buried itself in scorn, resentment and hate, of 
his kind. Only a little over twenty-four years, with 
wealth, marvelous beauty, a noble name and title, she 
was shut out from the world of her own kind, yet scorn- 
ing men, and still doomed to their society, to be their 
snare, for few but gave her love. 

In the conversation which followed, I found she had 
not spent the four years, which had elapsed, in idleness. 
I noted that her mind was well stored, hei language 
good, and well selected, and she expresesed herself, 
fluently on every subject that was broached. Pictures, 
books, authors, artists, and musicians, and even politics, 
which she confessed not to bother herself much about. 
But art, music, and the drama, was her love, her passion. 

“ I would rather go to an opera, than eat,” she said, 
when discussing the play of the evening before, “but 
Anna Held, while she is good in her way, is not quite 
the style for me. I do not admire burlesque. Let 
us go into the library, I like to sit there best, it’s more 
homelike, not quite so formal as this big salon.” 

“ I like the library better myself, and I know Beverly 
will be pleased to hear you sing,” said Bertram, rising 
and following after her. I followed also, rejoiced at the 
move, and bowing, I seated myself in an easy-chair by 
the table, while Bertram who had stepped to the piano, 
began arranging some pieces of music, that laid upon it. 

“ Here is a piece from ‘ Hernania,’ with variations, 
it’s my lesson. I have the same arranged for the violin; 
it is the love scene, between Donna Sol, and Hernania. 
I have taken but a few lessons in it, but I think you 
will like it.” She seated herself at the piano, and swept 
her fingers over the keys, softly, in sad sweet pathos, 
which stirred the heart, and soul, to thrill with the poetry, 
passion, and suffering, and tragedies, of life. 

As I sat there I could not believe, but that I was still 
dreaming, that I was under some spell, some kind of a 
trance, that some one had hypnotized me, that this beau- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITV IS AWAKE. I7I 

tiful queenly girl, in her rich trailing robes, her white 
jewelled fingers, manipulating the keys with masterly 
execution, could be Nina, the poor salesgirl, of No. — 
20 — F — Street. Nina, whom Gene, and myself, had 
searched for in the avenues and streets, where the out- 
casts, and courtesans, are most to be found. Nina, mis- 
tress of this great mansion, Nina, Countess Palermo, the 
beloved of my dear friend Bertram Arlington. Yes, she 
was one and the same, which proves the old adage, 
over and over again, that truth is stranger than fiction. 
That parentage plays its saving part, that the intellect 
when put to its God-given use, is master every time of 
the senses. 

When she finished and the music ceased, I started up 
like one suddenly roused from sleep in which he was 
having a strange and pleasant dream. She turned to us 
with a smile, the large lustrous eyes, were moist, and 
tears glistened on the long dark lashes. But she said 
gaily, as she thrummed the piano-board, “ Let me sing 
you this little ballad, I found it in an old Italian love- 
story. It begins thus : ‘ The edelweiss, blooming in the 
Alpine snows, so dear, my love shall bloom for you, 
though the snow of years, fall upon my heart.* My teach- 
er, Professor Zone, and myself set it to music.” 

I thought it the sweetest, most exquisite air, I had 
ever heard. Bertram, who stood by her side, seemed 
deeply moved. When she finished she rose, and went 
to a small silver button in the wall,touched it, came back, 
and drew a chair up to the table near where Bertram 
was seated. The bell was soon answered, by the black 
butler. 

“ Samson, go tell Madame Sloan to come down, and 
I want you to prepare a tray.” Samson disappeared, 
and in a few moments, Madame Sloan entered the library, 
bowed to Bertram, and was duly introduced to me. 
She was a tall slim woman, of forty-five or fifty years, 
a New Yorker, born and reared in one of the large 
suburban towns, which skirt the metropolis. Her father 
was a small store-keeper, but when she married Tom 
Sloan,she moved to the great city, where she saw many of 
the ups and downs of life. The first ten years of their mar- 


1^2 BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 

riage, they lived up to the top notch of a large salary, 
then the salary was cut. Tom stood it good-naturedly 
until another cut, then he left the firm, where he had 
been since a boy, seventeen years old. They then began 
to have reverses, and the makeshifts of keeping up ap- 
pearances, that curse of the American woman, who has 
drifted without knowing it into the pretenses, and arti- 
ficialities of city life. Who loves the word, and what it 
means, getting on,” when she has once tasted of the 
flesh-pots of Egypt; she dreams of millions, she hears 
millions talked of on all sides of her, in her own circle, 
and every circle, from the richest to the poorest. New 
York is the home of millionaires, her neighbors grow 
rich, and why not Tom, or John, and she hates in her 
heart of hearts, anything like poverty. 

The hardening process had begun years before Tom 
Sloan died, and Tom, before he departed this life, like 
many another man, passed out not leaving a penny to his 
widow. She was then away past her youth, and she 
drifted about eking out a scanty existence in a small 
furnished hall-room, until one morning, on looking over 
the columns of the World and Tribune, her eyes rested 
on this: “Wanted, a lady from forty to fifty years old 
or over, must be well-educated, of good family, and 
good character, to be the companion and chaperon, of 
a young lady. Call at No. — 

Madame Sloan, who was at that time, on the brink of 
starvation, and perfectly incompetent to battle for sub- 
sistence, with the present younger generation, and too 
proud to take what she called a menial place in a family 
to care for children, was delighted with her prospects of 
a home, and above all with Nina, after her long con- 
fidential talk with Miss Palermo, the morning she called 
at the great mansion in West 8o — S. — Street. “Yes,” 
she said, in her proud heart, after leaving Nina’s room, 
engaged to come that very day, “ I shall really love her; 
she is a beautiful young woman, her father an Italian 
nobleman, and think of it, no family; no one in that 
great house but herself, and the servants. I am to take 
charge of the house, and her, it will be just in my line.” 

And had Madame Sloan been made to order, she 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1/3 

couldn’t have fitted in Nina’s household better. She 
was well versed in the ways of the world, clever, shrewd, 
intelligent, and possessed of that delightful gift, tact. 
She had at last found her place, what she was most fitted 
to do, and with all the comforts, and luxuries, of wealth, 
as well as its protection, and without demeaning herself. 
She understood thoroughly the girl’s position. Nina 
did not deceive her, and Madame Sloan pitied her, and 
made up her mind to stand by her, through thick and 
thin, and coach her all she could in the ways of the social 
world. She wanted Nina to make a grand coup d'etat^ 
for social place, and she would back her. 

In the old days of prosperity, she herself was on the 
footing of social intimacy, with people who were now 
cutting a high figure in New York’s upper ten. These 
people were not so rich then, but were good, well-to-do 
people, bourgeoisie. But the girl was too proud. “ I 
could not stoop to manoeuvre for the smiles and appro- 
bation of a certain set,” she said, one day, to Madame 
Sloan, as they sat in the Countess’s beautiful boudoir, 
discussing the matter. “ No, never while such an awful 
skeleton is in my closet. Some day, fate may be merci- 
ful, and take the hideous grinning thing out and de- 
stroy it.” 

“ Nina, my dear, you surely haven’t let the gentlemen 
sit here all this time without a cool drink. I will ring 
for Samson.” 

“ We have been so busy talking, that the time slipped 
away. Mr. Arlington should feel enough at home, to 
ring for Samson, and let him know he’s thirsty,” she 
said, looking towards Bertram, with a light laugh, show- 
ing the piquancy of the lovely mouth. Then she turned 
to me with her face still lighted up with a smile. “ But 
I have not been very thoughtful of you ; Bertram should 
have reminded me of my omission in hospitality to 
his friend.” 

“ I will promise to do better, hereafter,” he answered 
softly, “but I am so well acquainted with my friend 
Beverly’s capacity for enjoyment, and extracting pleas- 
ure out of things, even the most commonplace, that I 
know he has been delighted ever since he entered 


174 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


the house. Why Beverly would get pleasure out of a 
woodshed, if he were obliged to spend an evening there, 
or if thrown upon the desert of Sahara, he would find a 
thousand things to interest him. With what he loves 
best about him, books, paintings, music, and all that is 
beautiful; to want anything to feed the animal, the inner 
man, while there is so much to nourish the mind, would 
be to disturb an ideal dream. Oh, no, when you are 
better acquainted with my friend Beverly, you will find 
his resources for entertaining and amusing himself, are 
prodigious.** 

“ Bravo,** she cried, clapping her white hands together, 
her fingers laden with jewels. “And you love books, 
and pictures. I have been making a small collection of 
paintings,** she said, rising. 

“ So I have observed,” I answered, rising also. 

“Yes, since I moved to this house, which is nearly 
three years ago, I began before but they were little etch- 
ings, and now and then a water color. I think some of 
these are good, although I am not much of a critic, but 
I have great love, and appreciation of pictures, and I 
judge and buy mostly from these two, at least I am gov- 
erned by them,** she said simply, as Bertram, and myself, 
followed her about, and she pointed out the different 
paintings. “ And I didn*t go to the picture dealers either, 
I went to the artist*s studios. I wanted to help the poor 
artists; I know how they are treated by the dealers, I 
have had a little experience in finding the ins and outs 
of things, in that line. I learned that the dealers charged 
a hundred per cent., and by the time the artist pays for 
his frame, his oils, out of the large price the purchaser 
pays, precious little the poor artist gets, when we come 
to consider his time, his years of study, besides his talent 
and his genius.** 

It was my turn now, to cry “ Bravo,*’ and I did it 
lustily. 

“You have struck one of the worst socialists, in New 
York City. Herr Most, is nowhere beside him,” said 
Bertram, with a mischievous hilarity. 

The color mounted to her cheek, she turned her eyes, 
brilliant and sparkling, upon me, and reached out her 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 75 


hand. “ Comradiers,” she said, then continued, “ Social- 
ism in its best sense, runs through every vein of my 
body, it mingles in and is fed by my very life-blood, hot 
Italian blood.' My grandfather on my father’s side threw 
up his birthright, his estates, his King, because he did 
not keep his promise to those who put him on the throne, 
to make more liberal laws for the people. My father, 
his son, became an exile to this country, hoping to at 
least find a fair portion of it in this Republic. But he 
would shake his head and say, that every man’s hand 
was raised against his brother man, the liberty we 
boasted of was the right of one set of men, to rob and 
cheat the other, providing they held the power, and the 
tyranny of combinations, for the purpose of grinding 
down and controlling the wants and commodities of the 
many, existed to such a degree in no other country, 
Monarchial, or Republic. The world is a great school: 
I have not lived my twenty-four years, without learning 
something,” she went on with a sigh, and a melancholy 
ring in her voice. “ And oh, it is the only plesure I 
take in having a little money,” and she looked towards 
me again, and smiled, and her large eyes, seemed to burn 
and emit sparks of fire. “ I can turn away from the men 
and women, in the large establishments where I go to 
look at things, and for the purpose of purchasing too. 
They see me drive up in my carriage and livery, and 
they bow and grimace, while if I came on foot, and in 
poor clothing, they would scorn me, and turn their backs 
upon me. I give them to understand I will have none 
of it. I tell them I know an old man, who has a small 

shop on P Street, off Broadway, he makes these 

things beautifully, artistically, I will go there. ‘ Yes,’ 
they answer, ‘ but you will have to pay more.’ ‘ Oh, I 
know, but he will get something for his labor and skill, 
the profit will not all go to the middlemen, who neither 
toil nor spin, nor put capital into what they sell, yet re- 
ceive their hundred per cent., but are the waste, in the 
battle of life.’ Oh, yes, I have read a great deal on these 
subjects, I have read Lasalle, Mazzini, and Karl Marx, 
scientific socialism, but I don’t just agree with them in 
everything. 


iy6 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


Cuba, fair southern isle of the sea, she lies right at 
our door, she has wasted, and spilled her best blood, fight- 
ing for a Republic, will she ever get it, and if she ever 
does, what then ? Will she fall into the snares and pit- 
falls that we have ? Will the ambitious, heartless, selfish, 
tyrannical, become dominant like in fair America^ Maz- 
zini’s dream for Italy was a Republic, liberty of the 
people, men to be free to choose their rulers, co-opera- 
tion in labor; capital and labor, to go hand in hand, but 
we see what a farce we have made of it in this country. 
Never since the history of the world, have so many 
crimes been committed, by the few, under the cloak of 
freedom, against the toiling masses, as in this so-called 
free land. And they do it barefaced, knowing that the 
government stands behind ready to back them. And 
who is the government? Not the people or the ideal. 
Uncle Sam, would to God it were, but an old crippled 
man of gold, painted up and dressed in the guise of 
youth, this is what they show us, while three or four old 
men. New York and London gold brokers are really the 
government. 

“Look at New York, we talk of freedom, was there 
ever a city so coerced ? I speak now of the majority of 
those who toil and labor, those who buy and those who 
sell; go into any of those little shops all along the avenues, 
the small merchant does much complaining about the 
department stores, but he gives you to understand in an 
indifferent machine-like way, when you ask the price 
of a thing you wish to purchase, ‘ If the price don’t suit 
you, you can take it or leave it,’ for he knows back of 
him, are the great corporations, who place the price of 
his wares. No matter what the article is, he gets his 
per cent., and you will find it no cheaper anywhere else. 

“We talk, and the press writes long columns of the 
over-crowding of China, Japan, London, and Paris, and 
their immoralities, they are no worse than New York 
City, nor are they as bad, my soul, no. And who makes 
and creates these immoralities, in the large cities ? The 
manufacturer, the big Jew, clothes-fiirnishing wholesale 
houses, the merchant princes. These ruin more young 
women, than any other source ; the girls and women are 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 77 


driven to immoral lives, by the low wages paid, and the 
high rate of living. Day in and day out, and weeks and 
months, and the months go into years, and still the hard 
grind of poverty is felt. They live in crowded tenement 
houses, packed in rooms not bigger than closets. 

“ And what makes it harder, these girls are Americans, 
educated in our public schools. They are pretty, they 
desire comfortable living, they have a passion for pretty 
things, for fine dress. Many of them are weak, and 
vain, the tempters come, and they fall, and more often 
the tempter is the man, who can stop their week’s salary, 
and have them discharged. Oh, yes, I know whereof I 
speak.” She bowed her head, and her eyes swept her 
own rich apparel, the trailing satins, the black fioating 
gauze, the white arms, with their circlets of heavy bands 
of dead gold, the white jewelled hands, with their gleam- 
ing flashing gems, and her beautiful throat, rising above 
the black, like a graceful swan’s. 

“ Oh, I wish it were all different,” she cried, rising 
from her chair, and wringing her hands. “ Reform com- 
ing from such as me would have no effect on the people, 
they demand the life that can influence and lead them 
to better things, must be clean and pure from the start, 
it must have something of the Christ, in it, or else they 
will not follow where they cannot trust. I parted with 
the religion taught me in childhood: it was my father’s, 
my mother’s, my adopted mother’s. The night I took 
that fatal step, I battled for hours with the blessed Christ, 
and the woman in me. I flung them away for revenge, 
but the brand was already on my brow,” and she drew 
her hand across it. “ I must carry it now to my grave, 
and nothing but the grave can hide it.” 

“ Nina, Nina,” I cried, jumping to my feet. I stood 
before her with bowed head. “ Oh, pardon me,” for I 
saw her tremble, and the blood mount hot to her cheek, 
and temples. “ Countess Palermo,” I said, correcting 
myself, “ you are wrong in condemning yourself thus; 
because we make one great mistake in our youth, there 
is no reason why we should allow it to stand as a hin- 
derance to the pursuit of things purer, and nobler, deeds 
which enrich and enlarge the mind and soul, and step 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


1/8 

by step, leads to the broader and higher life, which is 
the life of achievement. To make others happy is to be 
happy ourselves.” While I spoke, she seemed deeply 
moved, and upon her face rested that shade of sadness, 
which I had observed during the evening, transcient in 
its passing over her features, like the shadow of a dark 
cloud, floating by. 

“ Yes, what you say, is good, and true, and I thank 
you for it, but — ” here her whole manner changed, and 
she shook her finger at me with a merry laugh. “ Here 
comes Samson, with the tray, let us see what good things 
he has brought us. I know you and Bertram must be 
tired, and thirsty, and need some refreshments.” 

Samson, deposited his tray on a side stand, drew out 
a handsome mahogany table which stood in one corner, 
with a Japanese lacquer tray filled with goblets, of cut 
glass, opened out the leaves, and spread over it a white 
linen damask cloth, and laid plates of the finest china, 
and napkins of the damask like the cloth, a Venetian 
glass bowl of crushed ice, goblets half filled wfith the 
crushed ice. Decanters of Venetian glass filled with dif- 
ferent kinds of wine, also a large pitcher of ice cool 
lemonade, a pitcher of claret sangaree. Samson filled two 
glasses with the claret sangaree, and passed one to Ber- 
tram, and one to myself. He then filled Nina’s and 
Madame Sloan’s with lemonade. We had two or three 
kinds of cake, and some delicious salad made of lettuce, 
chicken, and potato. One of Sam’s decoctions. 

And we all sat around the table and laughed and 
chatted; Nina was particularly gay after her serious 
talk; at times she became brilliant and witty, and Ber- 
tram who had quite a reputation for repartee, knew Nina 
to be his equal in that art, and he seemed to enjoy it. I 
found Madame Sloan very entertaining, and perfectly at 
her ease. She had all the sang-froid of a well-bred 
woman of the world, and looked every inch a lady in her 
long, black dress trailing the floor, and setting off her 
slim, elegant figure. Her slender white hands, her pale 
delicate features showing the traces of former beauty. 
She looked at life something in the way of a passing 
show, and while the show went on its way to get all the 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 79 


amusement and happiness out of it possible. She saw 
all the incongruities of the show, but she cared more for 
its humorous side. She was quite witty in her way. 
“ Oh, I like to be comfortable,’’ she remarked, smiling, 
and her blue eyes twinkled, as she sipped her lemonade. 
“ I have much of the feline nature in me; I have all its 
sensuousness, and enjoy the soft side of things.” 

I observed that Nina treated her with marked atten- 
tion and kindness. Samson had just brought in some 
dishes of ice cream, and orange ice, when I heard the 
front door open and shut with a slam. Samson left the 
library to go to the hall, and I observed a shade of pal- 
lor passing over Nina’s face; then she became particu- 
larly gay, and her laugh rang out in musical swells at 
some remark of Bertram’s. In a few seconds after I 
heard the front door close with such a loud bang, 
there entered the library a man, and to my amazement 
and horror, Roscoe Delano stood before me. 

“ Ah,” he said with a sneer, standing opposite Nina, 
and leaning his shoulder against the bookcase, “ always 
company, always new victims. You see gentlemen, I 
have to keep an eye on my ward ; my ward in chancery, 
ha, ha!” His laugh was forced, and his whole manner 
was coarse and insolent. He stepped forward a pace or 
two and threw himself into a chair beside Madame 
Sloan. 

He was clad in ecru linen-crash pants, coat, and 
vest, which had that summer become quite the vogue, 
and popular with men of a tendency to flesh, and his 
shoes were of tan. He looked ten years older than when 
I last saw him, the fioridity of his face had paled, the 
red sensual lips were drawn down at the corners, the 
prominent eyes had a hard sinister fierce expression. 
He looked like a man that was crazed with an unre- 
quited passion, consumed by. a mad jealousy which was 
burning up his heart and his vitals. I could think of 
nothing as I watched him but a bull dog that had put 
his head in his collar chain, and was forever trying to 
break away from his shackles, but the more he leaped, 
and pawed, and plowed the ground about him, the 
tighter he wound his chain around his neck. From the 


i8o 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


tnoment lie entered fhe lilji*ary, Nina was like soTne one 
transformed ; she threw down her spoon and the dish of 
cream she was sipping on the table, and sat up in her 
chair, her head proudly poised, her bosom heaving, and 
drawing the dainty lace thing she called a handkerchief, 
nervously through her fingers. Her cheeks were crim- 
son, and the upper arched lip, which was one of her 
many charms, was drawn down and ugly in its expres- 
sion of scorn, contempt, and disgust. And in her eyes 
was a cold steel-like glitter, which seemed to emit sparks 
of white flame as she turned her head, and swept his 
face with a quick glance. 

“ I wonder,” she said, bending forward and picking 
up her spoon, and beating lightly the edge of the 
china dish of cream she had just laid down, “ which of 
us in this room is the greatest victim of circumstances, 
the greatest sufferer, that is according to the years they 
have lived. I am the youngest, Madame Sloan, and Mr. 
Delano the oldest.” 

There was silence for some minutes. Samson who 
had gone out with the china bowl, came back with it 
filled with ice, which he placed before Delano, also the 
decanters of wine; then he half filled a glass with the 
crushed ice, and set it beside him. “ Didn't hear that 
last remark of Miss Palermo's,” said Delano, filling his 
glass from one of the decanters. 

“ The Countess wonders,” replied Bertram, and he 
repeated whaf Nina said. 

“ By George!” exclaimed Delano, drinking his wine 
with one swallow, then rising from his seat he began 
walking up and down with a blustering stride to the 
farthest end of the room, and back again. “ Ha, ha, 
gentlemen, the most beautiful woman in New York, but 
twenty-three or four years old, and mistress of an estab- 
lishment like this. Look around you gentlemen, look 
around you! why the Astors, and the Vanderbilts can't 
boast of a finer house than this, and with any amount of 
lovers at her feet to boot. By George, gentlemen, if you 
but knew, I am the victim.” And he hurried his steps 
back and forth; I. glanced toward him, his face was 
deadly pale, and the blue of his eyes was white with 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. l8l 


anger and jealous rage, as if he would like to slay her 
where she was seated. 

“ Yes,*’ he went on, his eyes glaring^ at her, but she 
kept her head turned away from him, “ I am forty-six 
years old. I have had my day ; I have always had my 
own way, pretty much before ; women were no more to 
me than the glass of wine I have just tossed off, simply 
for the pleasure of an hour. Of course I have had my 
likes and fancies, but she, this tragedy queen here, ha ! 
ha! by George, I’m the dupe! I’m the victim now.” 

“ I will have no more of this,” said Nina, imperiously, 
rising from her seat, her whole body quivering, the fire 
in her eyes scorching the long lashes, and drying the 
tears which glistened upon him. “You are the victim 
of your own game, the game you have been playing all 
your life, you have made victims of poor women by the 
scores. Now the tables have turned, it is but just but 
the inevitable law of things. I did not choose or appoint 
myself the avenger of your acts. T was chosen by an 
unseen and higher power. But enough, I will have no 
more of this ; if you can’t come here and act the gentle- 
man, and behave like other guests, I will find a way to 
make you, or stop your visits.” Her voice rang out 
clear and decisive, and he seemed to cow under the 
burning, flashing fire of her eyes, and stood as if rooted 
to the floor. Samson, attend to Mr. Delano,” she said 
more softly, as he threw himself into a chair, and she 
resumed hers. “ Mrs. Sloan, ask him if there is anything 
he would like. Mr. Arlington, perhaps yourself and Mr. 
Osgood would enjoy a game at cards; Mr. Delano is 
very found of cards.” 

“ It is quite late, some other evening we will be glad 
to play,” said Bertram, rising. I rose also. 

“ Excuse me Arlington, I beg your pardon gentlemen. 
You see I have to keep a guardian’s eye on my ward, 
ha, ha, — my ward in chancery, ha, ha. Come again 
Arlington, ah, what is the name,” he said, glowering at 
me. “ Osgood,” replied Mrs. Sloan. “ Mr. Osgood come 
again. I don’t want you to think I wish to coerce my 
ward, no by George, she can fill the whole house with 
her lovers; come again Osgood; Arlington I know don’t 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


182 

need pressing. Come again gentlemen, any time yoti 
feel like it. Yon don’t mind me speaking for the Coun- 
tess, ha, ha.” 

In a few minutes Nina stood in the door of the salon 
bidding us good-night ; her face was as white as when 1 
saw it the evening before at the theatre. She held out 
her hand to me, and as I took it in mine, my heart cried 
in silence, “ Nina, Nina, I saw your humiliation to- 
night ; that brute Delano is the skeleton in the closet of 
your great house. I turned quickly from her, fearing 
that something about me might recall to her mind her 
mother’s lodger of four summers before, and opened the 
door and went out. Bertram lingered a moment with 
her hand in his as I stood in the vestibule. I saw him, 
through the door which I had left ajar, bend low and 
press his lips upon it. Then take his cane and hat from 
the hall-tree, and in a few seconds we were in the 
street. 


CHAPTER V. 

HE WILL BLESS YOU THEN AS HE FOLDS YOU TO 
HIS BREAST. 

Neither Bertram nor myself, spoke until we reached 
the steps of the Quinton house. “ Come in,” I said, “ I 
would like you to stay all night with me now that you 
are here.” 

“ I shall be glad to,” he answered, “ the thought just 
occurred to me as I came up the steps, I have something 
to say to you Beverly, and I don’t know of a better 
time.” 

“ Well, old fellow, if you were old Quinton’s heir, you 
couldn’t have finer quarters,” remarked Bertram, taking 
a survey, after I had lighted the gas, of my spacious 
surroundings, with the dainty blue silk hangings, white 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 183 


miislin curtains, its white and gold paneling, its walls 
of gray decorated in blue violets, and its furniture, oak 
and willow* 

“ This room was intended for a woman, no one could 
furnish it up with all this drapery for a man, shutting 
out the pure fresh air. I feel like sneezing every time I 
enter the door.” 

“ What a queer fellow, you are Beverly,” said Ber- 
tram, with a laugh. 

“ Oh, no, when you come to knock round the world as 
much as I have in the last three years, and have to make 
your bread, by few scanty brains, and mighty scanty at 
that, you will not want silken hangings in your work- 
shop. They are womanish things any way.” 

“ And we like them all the better, for their love of all 
these pretty soft things, ’’answered Bertram, as he placed 
his cane in a corner, and laid his hat, on a little stand, 
which stood near by. 

“ You’re right, my dear fellow, there is no music 
sweeter to my ear than the light footstep of a woman, 
the rustle of her skirts, and the shrough of her drapery. 
It is a delightful sensation, and makes the blood tingle 
in my veins.” 

Bertram, peeled of his coat, for the night was warm, 
to sultryness, and drew up a willow armchair, to one of 
the large open windows which looked out on a long and 
wide area way, inclosed by the backs of the great tall 
houses, on both side streets, and threw himself into it. 

“ We will have to take things slim, Bertram, as I am 
not provided with anything but cigars. Yes, I see old 
Michael has left me a big pitcher of ice water.” 

I handed Bertram my cigar-case, and matches, took 
off my coat, lit a cigar, turned the gas down to a faint 
blue point, drew up a chair to the other window, and 
seated myself, my friend’s vis-a-vis. We sat some mo- 
ments without speaking puffing the smoke from our 
cigars. 

“ What a nightmare that Delano is,” said Bertram, 
breaking the silence. 

“ Yes, it seems impossible to me that their lives, 
should be in any way connected. What I told you 


MVKRLY OSGOOD • 


184 

about seeing Nina, enter that house, at midnight, foUi* 
years past this summer, and the door close on her, what 
happened after, how they came together, how she ever 
emerged from there to her present place, I cannot con- 
jecture. But this I could take my oath on, that what- 
ever their relations may have been, nothing exists of it 
now. The step she took was done for revenge upon the 
man, who had branded her with a lie to the world, while 
in her own heart, she knew she was innocent, and 
pure.” 

“ Infamous scoundrel,” cried Bertram, rising from his 
chair, and beginning to pace the floor. “ I could have 
struck him to-night, with as little compunction, as I blow 
the smoke of this cigar from my lips. I do not only believe 
it but I know since my acquaintance with her, there has 
been nothing between them, they are strangers to each 
other. So far as / 'iitnon livre^ it was more on her side, a 
union of hate. He comes there every night, just as you 
saw him, this evening, it makes no difference who is 
there, stranger or friend, or how many, it is the same 
thing ; she has to undergo the same humiliation. Why 
she bears with him, I can't understand, she needn't, 
Beverly, put up with him a moment.” 

“ My dear boy, you are better acquainted with her af- 
fairs, than I. As I told you, I know nothing of her 
life, for the last four years.” 

“ Yes, I’m her man of business, have been for nearly 
three years past. But I’m now going to relate to you 
something, Beverly, which I compelled her to tell me 
one evening about a year, after we first met. Before I 
go farther I must confess even at the risk of your con- 
demnation, your resentment, and thinking me a base un- 
principled fellow, simply blinded by a passion, well it 
may be the animal, the beast, in me, whatever it is, I 
love Nina Palermo. Yes I have loved her ever since I 
set eyes on her. I don’t mean to say, Beverly, that had 
I never met her again, that it would have taken such a 
hold upon me, but I love her with a love I have never 
known before, the love of the mature man, the love of 
my life. I know Beverly where your thoughts have trav- 
eled,” (for I sat with my face, turned looking out of the 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 8$ 

window, and he must have read what was passing 
through my mind). 

“ To a cottage, near the sea, where dwells one of the 
loveliest, sweetest, purest, and fairest of the daughters, 
of men ; the soft-eyed Clarise. That I owe her my faith, 
and allegiance, I own. I am not pledged to her, but it 
was my intention to marry her, before I met Nina 
Palermo, and I think she understood it that way, and 
loved me. Our courtship goes away back, to boy and 
girl, and will meet with the same fate, as most boy and 
girl courtships do. To marry Clarise now would only 
be to destroy her happiness, to make her the most mis- 
erable of women, as well as myself, the most wretched 
of men. 

“ I will not state to you what my impressions were of 
Nina, the day she first came to my office with Delano. 
If she were his mistress she was a very rare specimen 
of that kind of girl. I would try by all the power in me 
to win her from him. I knew she despised him, for her 
whole manner towards him, showed it. I was a younger 
man, better looking, better educated, he was a parvenu, 
I a gentleman, of family and position, and had more 
wealth at my command than he. These were all in my 
favor, I knew they would not be lost on the kind of girl, 
I supposed Nina to be. Besides I loved her for herself, 
and was determined to gain her favor. 

“ In all that first year, when laboring under painful 
doubts and fears and I will confess jealousies, I never 
saw by look, word, or deed, her do or say, anything con- 
trary to the most refined and virtuous woman. Delano, 
came more frequently and earlier, than he does now, 
but she always treated him with proud scorn and freez- 
ing contempt. At last driven to desperation, by the love 
I bore her, for it had taken a deeper and stronger hold 
upon me, I felt I must have her at any cost and get 
her out of Delano’s power. 

“ On the night I speak of, we were alone in the library, 
she was dressed in white. I like her better in white, 
than in color. She was seated in one of those large 
easy chairs, the silvery sheen of the satin damask, throw- 
ing out her dark head, which reclined against its back. 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


1 86 

From where I myself was seated, I had a three-quarter 
view of her face. Her beautiful eyes, deep as wells, and 
as mysterious as stars, were gazing off, as if living over 
some scene, in the simple home of her girlhood. And 
over her features was that shade of sadness, which her 
past suffering has something to do with, as well as being 
peculiar to the Italian race. Unable to bear it any 
longer I rose and fell on my knees beside her, and tak- 
ing her two hands, in mine, I held them tight, for she 
started up frightened, and tried to draw them away. 

“ ‘ I love you, Nina, I love you, with all my heart and 
soul.’ 

“ ‘ O, don’t say it, please don’t insult me,’ she cried, 
wrenching her hands from mine. ‘ I thought you above 
anything like this, that you were too manly, that you had 
eyes to see, and would have some pity, for me, and not 
offer me love, this hateful passion that men call love. 
Can a woman, never be anything higher to a man, than 
the object of a low base passion ; is he capable of no 
pure and disinterested friendship for a woman, never 
able to rise to the heights of being happy, simply in a 
woman’s companionship. I begin to believe no man 
can.’ 

“ ‘ It is not merely passion, that I offer you,’ I said, 
taking both her hands again, in mine, ‘ but love, Nina, 
pure and simple love, the love of the mature man, love 
in all its strength, depths, and heights, which I am capa- 
ble of feeling, the love of my life. When I first met you 
my intention was to marry one of the fairest and gentlest 
of girls, trained and educated, from childhood by her 
father, a man, of the highest attainments, and one of the 
first scholars in our country. Besides this she was accom- 
plished in both music and art. We were boy and girl to- 
gether, she is and has been from her childhood, the loved 
companion of my favorite sister. There is no engage- 
ment, but we liked each other. But from the day I first 
saw you, my love for Clarise, has paled, and faded, and 
finally died in the greater love for you. Now tell me I 
beg of you, before I go farther, what your relationship 
to this man Delano is, who I know you have the most 
painful aversion to, against whom your whole nature and 


OR, V 7 HEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 87 

womnnhood revolts ; and how you ever came to fall 
into his hands ? A girl, like you don’t throw herself 
away, simply for money, and the sensual pleasures of 
the world, you are not of that stripe.’ 

“ ‘ Let go my hands,’ she said, drooping her eyes, ‘ and 
I will tell you enough, so that you will understand my 
position, and it may be the winding-sheet in which you 
will bury the love, you have just now confessed to, God 
grant it may.’ 

“ She threw herself back into the chair, she had been 
sitting in, I drew mine close to hers. ‘ I am not,’ she 
began, looking away from me, ‘ the first or the fiftieth 
girl, victim of Delano’s machinations; suffice it to say, 
that in the store where I was employed, as saleswoman, 
and Delano manager, I accepted an invitation from him, 
I will for short say to dinner. On our return home, I de- 
clined another invitation. I was the next morning sum- 
moned to the general manager’s office, to answer to the 
charge of immorality. I will not now relate what my 
horror, my consternation was when called to that office 
to see Delano, and Waite, the head manager of the 
whole house, sitting there as my judges. What I felt, 
what I suffered, would be cruel to myself, to recall, for 
four years, I have tried to put it from me, and live it 
down. But if you have a mother or a sister, or the 
sweet Clarise, you have just spoken of, you can imagine 
yourself, how shocked and outraged their sensibilities 
would be.’ 

“ ‘ I knew my innocence would not save me, that very 
soon the word would get out, and it did so as soon as I left 
my place behind my counter, and I was as much con- 
demned as if I had been guilty a thousand times over. 
Well I was carried from that room, in a dead swoon, to 
one of the private rooms, set apart for the girl employees, 
in case of sudden illness. Two or three hours later I 
recovered, sufficient to sit up, and a few hours later, I 
left the store, stealing out unseen by a side stairway. 

“ ‘ I never returned to my home. I knew Delano’s 
infatuation for me. I made up my mind, that though I 
should go down to hell, I would make him pay the pen- 
alty of his deed. That I would avenge not only my own 


i88 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


wrong, but all the other poor girls, he had made the vic- 
tims, of his lust. Midnight found me standing before 
the very house, I had refused to enter the night before 
with him. I knew Delano would be there, at least he 
would come there, to find out how his plan had worked; 
he had tried similar plots before. I will not go over, 
what it cost me to enter the door, of that house, only 
this it struck the youth, out of me, and made me old, 
oh, so old. While in every innocent girl, there is an in- 
stinctive and awful dread to do wrong, yet this very inno- 
cence, cannot conceive of the destructive and ruinous 
step, she is about to take. 

“ ‘ The woman of the house, ushered me into an ele- 
gantly furnished room, where I had not long to wait for 
Delano. I had thrown off my small mantle and hat, and 
stood by the window. It was a front room, but the in- 
side shutters of the windows, were closed and the light 
silken drapery, perfectly concealed every shade of move- 
ment. But I knew that in New York, there is the 
strictest police surveillance, not so much for the protec- 
tion of the innocent, but for the chance of extorting 
money, from the unfortunate proprietress, and the in- 
mates. All I had to do was to pull the drapery aside, 
wrench open the shutters, and call the police, but that 
was not my purpose. When Delano entered he rushed 
over to where I stood, and threw himself, on his knees at 
my feet, begging my forgiveness, saying something about 
that “all is fair, in love, as well as war.” Fortunate for 
him, if at that moment I had had a knife or a dagger, in 
my hand, I would have stabbed him, to the heart, there 
and then. » 

“ ‘ But I stood like a statue, oh, I had grown so old, it 
seemed to me then I had lived a hundred years, and had 
a whole world of experience thrust upon me in a few 
hours. When Delano subsided from the silly stuff he 
talked, I then and there, made my terms, if he agreed to 
them I would call the landlady, and ask her to fetch pen, 
paper, and ink. Delano remarked, “she would think it 
a strange supper.” But he was so insanely bent upon 
securing his prey, that in less than twenty minutes, I 
held in my hand, a check for a large sum of money, 


DR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 189 

drawn on one of the principal banks of New York City, 
and made payable to my order. I told him, that when I 
had drawn the money, from the bank, and placed it in 
another to my own credit, which I could do on the fol- 
lowing day, I would be his, and he agreed to it, depend- 
ing on my word, and left me. 

“ ‘ Do not think me mercenary, in the awful step I was 
about to take it was my only alternative from a worse 
fate. In the nineteen or twenty years of my life, and 
in the last ten years of it, I had seen many young girls, 
carried awa> , from their poor homes, by just such men, 
as Delano, and in three months’ time they were driven 
to the streets. They would not go back to their homes, 
they could find no employment, besides the poison had 
gotten into their young blood, and opiated all the moral 
in them, for that life has its hasheesh, as well as the 
love of silver and gold, when it enters men’s souls and 
deadens all that is best and healthy in human nature. 

“ ‘ Delano came the next evening, I kept my compact 
with him, but it was only once, only once, I sinned, oh, 
God pity me !’ she rose from her chair, raised her arms 
above her head, and wrung her hands. ‘ Oh, God be 
merciful to me a sinner, as thou didst forgive Mary 
Magdalene, I pray thee dear Lord Christ, forgive me,’ she 
walked to the window and back, drew her fingers across 
her brow, that beautiful brow of hers, and seated herself 
again. ‘ A few days after,’ she continued, a pause of 
several minutes ensuing, ‘ I rented a small pretty flat, 
uptown, furnished it and went there to live. I wished 
to hide myself away, so that my mother, and brother 
could find no trace of me. 

“ ‘ Delano, followed me there, he came every evening, 
he insisted upon paying my bills, which I allowed him, to 
do, for a while. He did everything to win me and get 
me to live with him, but I was obdurate, I was like 
stone, I hated and loathed him. He would say, with an 
oath, that he would win me if it took him, all his life 
and no other man should have me. He bought me 
handsome presents, but I would not accept them, he of- 
fered me large sums of money, but I refused, he would 
then send me checks, on banks, through the mail, but I 


190 


BEVERLY OSGOOD J 


returned them, no I took only what I bargained for, I 
paid it at what cost to myself, God and His angels 
knew. 

“ ‘ After he became one of the proprietors of the large 
establishment he was manager of, he bought this row of 
houses, and deeded me this one, thinking he would at 
last overcome all my scruples. A few months later I 
moved here. I then thought of the papers my adopted 
mother gave me. I had them on my person, when I left 
the store that afternoon. I had laid them carefully away 
in a small box I kept for such things, and thought now 
was the time to have them read. I had no idea they 
were so important, indeed the only value they had for 
me, was the certificate of my mother’s marriage, my 
baptism, and my father’s name and title, so I brought 
them to you. 

“ ‘ In the meantime I heard that Delano was married, 
and had a wife, and two children. One evening when 
he came I told him, what I had heard. The revenge 
which had taken such a hold upon me and the passionate 
desire to destroy him, for the wrong he had done me, 
had softened and lost much of its sting. I begged him 
to leave me, and go back to his wife and family, and 
that I would buy the house from him. But to show the 
baseness of the man and his moral degradation, he said 
he had offered to settle half of all he owned, as well as 
half of his income, upon his wife, son and daughter, if 
she v^ould sue for a divorce, she could get one for she 
had heard of me, and if she would sue for a divorce, he 
would marry me. “ Never, never,” I cried, “ I have 
sinned enough, never will I allow you or your wife, to 
drag my name through the courts, it is a good, and hon- 
orable name, you have smirched it enough now. I will 
return you the deed to this house, pay you back all the 
money you gave me, I have my own income now, go 
back, go back, to your wife, and family, leave me I beg 
of you, leave me in peace.” 

“ ‘ “ I cannot go back,” he answered, “ she has heard 
of you, and we parted for good, nearly a year ago.” 

“ ‘Now Bertram Arlington, I have told you all this, to 
show you what my position is, you see how inexorable 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. I9I 


fate has dealt with me. I took that awful step, no mat- 
ter what the excuse, so that I might destroy another, but 
I put the chain about my own neck, I forged its links, 
with my own hands, not knowingly, but death, or some 
stronger arm, must break it.* 

“ ‘ Nina, Nina,’ I cried falling on my knees before her 
again, ‘ the law can break it, be my wife, and it will end 
all. This wretch Delano, has no claim on you, just the 
reverse, he will not dare to open his mouth, or breathe 
a word against you. He persecutes and humiliates you 
now, because you are alone and unprotected. You must 
give him back all his presents, all he ever gave you. 
We can be married quietly and go abroad. I have some 
business in Paris to transact for father, it will take me 
nearly a year. Vv/'hen we return I will buy a house in 
the country. I have one now in view, about three miles 
from Anlace, it is a lovely spot. I love you, Nina, 
Countess Palermo, I love you, and offer you the highest 
gift a man can offer a woman, his heart, his hand, and 
his name.’ 

“ She was deadly pale, she pressed her fingers upon 
her temples, then drew them across her brow (a habit 
with her, when sorely agitated), leaned her head against 
the back of the chair a moment, as if for rest, then rose 
up and flung her arms above her shoulders, and clasped 
her hands. ‘ Your wife, your wife,’ she repeated, as if 
in sobs, ‘ Bertram Arlington, you are mad, you do not 
know what you are asking, you cannot realize what your 
act would cost you, it would be to throw your whole life 
away. Oh, no no, never. I never can, or will be any 
man’s wife. I would do you and myself a great injury. 
If you love me as you say you do, I beseech you to put 
it out of your heart, do not for a moment harbor any 
thought of me. I pray you go back, to that sweet girl 
you loved before you saw me, she is more fitted to be 
your wife, than I, she will make you more happy. Per- 
haps not now but some day in the years to come you 
will bless me for this.’ 

“ I had risen from my knees, and crossed over to 
where she stood. I took her two hands in mine,- ‘ I do 
love you Nina, I love you. If you refuse to be my wife 


192 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


I can only hope and wait. I cannot go back to Clarise, 
God forgive me, no, not while you live.’ 

“ ‘ Let us be friends,’ she replied, ‘ let us go on as be- 
fore. I like you for your culture, polish, manliness, and 
elegant manners, indeed for the whole gentleman that 
you are. You are the only young man, who comes here 
"■hat I have any particularly kindly feeling or friendship 
for, and I do believe now, you have some real honest af- 
fection, for me.’ 

“We parted that night, nearly two years ago, and 
things have been going on just as you have seen them 
this evening. I visit her about twice a week, some times 
business takes me oftener. I have made several invest- 
ments for her, which have turned out well, she has quite 
a modest fortune, that yields her a good income yearly, 
besides what she receives from her father’s estate. Now 
Beverly this is the sequel to what happened the night, 
four years before, when you saw the door of that dark 
house close upon her, and my story, and my romance, 
began about a year and a half later, so like other men, 
and women, I try to content myself with my fate !” He 
stopped pacing the floor, came and threw himself into his 
chair. 

“ My dear Bertram,” I said rising, after a silence of 
nearly ten minutes, “ while I deeply regret the course 
things have taken, and while we cannot always be 
masters of our fate, yet we are more or less the makers 
of our own lives, and happiness. You are no boy, you 
are nearly thirty years old, you should know best where 
honor and duty lead.” 

“ Oh, bother, Beverly, don’t sermonize, in a case like 
this. Do men think of honor, and duty, when it comes 
to a great love, and passion, for a beautiful woman, and 
they are free to bestow it. Bah, honor, and duty,” he 
repeated with contempt. “ I’m not married to Clarise, 
no, not even engaged.” 

“ You’re right, my dear fellow, that’s what plays the 
deuce, as your sister Jeanette said, ‘ men are such strange 
animals.’ ” 

“ I love Nina, and expect to go on loving her, and take 
the consequences,” he answered with some pique. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. I93 

“ My dear boy, a man’s love, like his religion, is a per- 
sonal affair, and should be respected, however we differ 
in our views regarding it. Say, old fellow, it’s late 
and I know you’re dry, supposing I slip out and get a 
little something, I see there is still some ice in the 
pitcher.” 

I put on my hat (a man, will always put on his hat 
first when he’s in a hurry), slipped on my coat, opened 
the door softly, and went down the stairs, three steps at 
a time, my foot falling noiselessly on thick padded car- 
pet. I opened the front door, and turned my latch-key 
in it so as to close it without a sound, and hurried to the 
avenue, to my French restaurateur, and asked him for a 
bottle of his best French claret, a half-dozen lemons, I 
had sugar, and hastened back. 

“ What a first-class sneak thief, you’d make Beverly,” 
said Bertram stifling a big laugh, as I closed the door of 
my room. 

“ Yes, I thought every step I took, old Michael would 
be after me with a shot gun, but come to think of it, 
you don t use that weapon in cultured Now York.” 

“ Oh, we have them in the country.” 

I took o£E my coat and hat, threw them on the sofa, 
hustled about on tiptoe, squeezed a lemon into each 
glass, fished up with a spoon, several small pieces of ice, 
from the pitcher, poured in my claret, sliced the rind of 
a lemon, to flavor, passed the sugar bowl to Bertram, 
and sweetened mine to taste, and we had a drink fit 
for her Majesty, of England. Bertram who is a connois- 
seur in such things, said Samson, Nina’s butler, who is 
an expert in preparing drinks, couldn’t equal it. Whether 
it was flattery or not he seemed to enjoy it immensely. 

A few minutes later, we had turned in, for it was after 
twelve. In less than ten seconds Bertram poor fellow, 
had forgotten all his troubles, and lay sound asleep, at 
my side. But sleep, sweet sleep, was not so kind to me. 
“ He giveth his beloved sleep,” I never had reason to 
believe, from that, I was one of His beloved, for I had 
so often fervently wooed her, only to mock me. So 
when my head, touched mv pillow, and my friend, lay 
at my side, breathing heavily, and healthily, lost in the 


194 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


embrace of that twin brother death, my brain began to 
review the whole occurence of the evening, and Ber- 
tram’s relation of Nina’s confession to him. 

So this w^as Nina’s life, during the four years past, the 
mystery was explained. Only one false step, then she 
quit Delano, forever ; brave girl, her whole nature re- 
volted against such a life, with him, she had not even 
love for the man, to clothe its naked baseness. Poor 
Nina, that is why he looked as he did to-night, why he 
has persecuted you ever since, with a jealous mad pas- 
sion, which takes the form of insanity, in some men, of 
the libertine order. This animality, sensuality, the more 
I study and philosophize upon it the more it gets be- 
yond me. Men, have let the animal loose in them to 
such a degree, that the beast has become king. It is 
the grip of death upon the human race. Christ the 
Saviour of men, warned them of it, denounced it in 
every sentence of His teaching the whole New Testa- 
ment, is a sermon against it. “ My kingdom is a spirit- 
ual kingdom.” 

Even Bertram, swallowed up by passion, to the for- 
getting of his honor, to the throwing over of the fair 
Clarise. They were not engaged it is true, but from 
childhood, he had given Clarise to understand that some 
day, she was to be his little wife. Ah me, how deceitful 
is the heart of man, there is no knowing its selfishness, 
its utter depravity, the beast, that cuddles, nestles, sleeps, 
ready to spring up at the opportune moment, and assert 
its dominance. Clarise’s fine character, gentleness, love- 
liness, her finished education, her artistic talent, the ex- 
quisite delicacy, of a mind, attuned to all that is beauti- 
ful, true, and good ; and above all her womanly virtues, 
unspotted, without blemish, looking up into one’s face, 
with those dove-like innocent eyes. All paled and van- 
ished before Nina’s more striking, and brilliant beauty, 
and romantic history. 

He had not even the courage, to speak to Clarise, when 
he learned his fate, from Nina. It was but a little over 
a year past, and he had made up his mind to go on loving 
the Countess, living in hopes of her some day, becoming 
his wife. Ah, yes, it is the man’s usual cowardice, in 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. I 95 


such matters, his moral apathy, his willingiKsss to always 
sacrifice the woman, at any cost, and hug his own feel- 
ings, they are so delicious, why should he make any 
sacrifice. 

He hated to break with the old professor, hk old 
friend, and his daughter, the fair Clarise Cline. Ah, yes, 
the beast, is in us, the soft, cuddling, velvety, nasty thing, 
with the jaws of the wolf, the stealthiness of the tiger, 
and sensuous noiseless feline cruelty of the leopard. How 
my heart ached and swelled nigh to bursting with love 
and sorrow for ^Clarise, my dream of ideal womanhood. 
What must I do, to speak of my own love now would 
be coarse, and sacrilegious. I can only hope and wait. 
Perhaps when this, passion^ burns itself out, Bertram will 
be glad to find peace and security, in the one heart 
chat loves him, and is true. He will bless you then as 
he folds you to his breast, in the happiness which is his. 


CHAPTER VI. 

SOME LIVING PICTURES FROM THE OLD PRIS0N"T0MBS. 

It was late in the morning when Bertram and myself 
arose, we breakfasted at the Frenchman's, on Columbus 
Avenue, he enjoyed the meal immensely, better than at 
his own big hotel, downtown. 

“ Drop in soon, any day,” he said, as we parted at the 
door, of the restaurant. “ You do not wish me to let 
them know at Anlace, that you are in New York; they 
would all be pleased to see you, especially Jeanette. 
Oh, by the way, Beverly, did I tell you that she had a 
lovely little daughter, nearly two years old, she would be 
delighted to present you to her.” 

“ And nothing would please me better, than to make 
the little lady’s acquaintance, you ase aware of my ad- 
rniration for her mother.” 

“ It’s mutual I assure 3iou, Beverly. 


196 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


“ I shall not be ready to visit Anlace, or Malmarda 
before fall. All that day, I prowled about the book- 
stores, as I had gotten out of reading matter. I had 
always looked upon books, as something sacred, things 
to be treated with reverence. At home in my uncle’s 
library, they were kept in handsome bookcases, under 
lock and key. I don’t mean to say, they were not read, 
but the key was turned on them, for my uncle and my- 
self were very jealous of our books. 

I stopped at one of the regular bookstores, and bought 
Lew Wallace’s “ Prince of India,” went to my room, and 
read, until eight in the evening, then went to dinner. 
After dinner I strolled about the streets for a while, then 
returned to my room, threw my hat on the table, peeled 
off my coat, put on my slippers, turned the gas low, and 
laid down on the sofa, for I felt very tired. I soon fell 
into a sound sleep, and never woke until daylight, when 
I rose undressed and went to bed. I kept this up for 
nearly four days, feeling that I needed the rest, also a 
good read, which I enjoyed in the “ Prince of India.” 
On the evening of the fifth day, I stood at the hall door 
of Gene’s apartments. I had written him a postal, stat- 
ing I would call that evening early, and to be ready for 
a long stroll. Mrs. Lunis, who opened the door, was 
delighted to see me again, and after a chat of a few min- 
utes, in the little parlor. Gene came in. I looked at my 
watch, as we left the house, and its hands just touched a 
quarter of eight. 

I will first state here, that it was my intention not to 
let Gene know until later my discovery of Nina’s where- 
abouts. It was now nearly the end of August, although, 
the weather was hot during the day, the evenings were 
deliciously cool. A bracing sea breeze had sprung up 
after the sun dipped its beams for the last time, below 
the horizon. As we walked along, the mantel of night 
touched the edge of the long northern twilight, and was 
about to wrap it in its folds. Above the sky spread out 
over the citj^, in a deep purplish-blue, crested with stars, 
that shone in clear cold brilliance, like diamonds throw- 
ing out flames of white light. How high the heavens 
seemed here, so grand in their sweep, from horizon to 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 1 97 


horizon. So unlike onr southwest, where they droop 
low, and are soft, kindly, and seemingly so near. 

“ I am going to be pilot to-night,” said Gene, when we 
came to Third Avenue, where the people were now 
swarming the streets, coming and going in streams. 
Gene, was dressed in his best, he wore light gray pants 
and vest, a black round coat, made of some light cloth, 
tan shoes, a straw hat, and his linen was exquisitely 
laundried. 

What a handsome fellow I thought him, as he walked 
by my side, naturally fair, and having the pallor of the 
city, by indoor work, still he had all its ruggedness and 
strength also, combined with a certain picturesqueness. 
“ We will take Third Avenue, until we come to Twenty- 
third Street, walk west on Twenty-third, to Sixth Ave- 
nue, up Sixth Avenue to Twenty-third Street then cross 
over to Seventh Avenue, down Seventh Avenue to 
Twelfth Street, then back again to Fourteenth Street, 
east on Fourteenth to Sixth Avenue. When we make 
this round we will then make up our minds what to do 
next, we are out you know for the night. 

“ The young men, and women, that you meet here on 
Third Avenue, and old and middle-aged for that mat- 
ter,” continued Gene, “ are nearly all of the decent poor 
working people. Of course there is a mixture, of the 
other kind, and you will not go far until you find it out, 
your appearance will invite it.” 

“ How about yours ?” I said, laughing. 

“ They will knovv^ that I am a working man, and will 
not have the money which your appearance suggests. 
Women are keen judges of men, and the size of their 
pocketbooks. Let us take the outside of the street.” 

The crowd increased, a medley of human beings, 
brought together from the farthest ends of this little 
round planet, a commingling of all nations, of all types, 
of men, and women, of the working, hurrying, hurrying, 
buying, selling and trafficking, world. As Thackeray 
said, once on going of a midsummer evening to Vaux- 
hall, “ All London was out of town, yet there was nearly 
a million and a half of people in the vicinity of that 
famous garden. Here were the thousands and hundreds 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


198 

of thousands, upon the streets, of New York City, of 
men, women, and children, the human ants, that spin, 
weave, toil, and slave, and make it possible for what we 
call the world of society, which is but one-fiftieth of the 
^eat multitude. “ The silent multitude,” Zola terms 
chem, to enjoy their country palaces, and the cool sea 
breezes.” 

We now reached Twenty-third Street; it was ablaze 
with light from the electric lamps above our heads, and 
the shop windows, and vaudeville theatres. Here was 
another crowd pushing, jostling, elbowing, but this 
crowd was of a different grade, a mixture of all classes ; 
saleswomen, clerks, bookkeepers, women 'cashiers, mo- 
distes, milliners, all with a forward, smart -cut, business- 
like air, and dressed like millionaires’ daughters. Actors, 
and pretty actresses, with their well-known type of fast 
eccentricities in dress and manners; old women, sixty 
and seventy, clad in mauve silk with black thread-lace 
mantles or scarfs of priceless value thrown over their 
shoulders, the rouge thick on their old wrinkled faces, 
their poor, old, spectacled eyes leering out from under 
blond wigs as if holding on to the gaities of the world 
with a deathlike clutch. 

Handsome women from thirty-five to forty, and on up 
to fifty, nearly all having that cold, bold, hard expres- 
sion; as if the heart was a stranger to all sympathy, 
delicacy, sisterly love, and feeling for one’s own kind, 
but all the passions sharpened, and made keen by luxury 
and sensual gratification. On the crowd passed in tho 
shrough of summery skirts, the rustle of airy silks which 
exhaled perfume ; the dip and swip of feathers on large 
hats that shaded bold bright eyes, the bend and swaying 
of fans, the patter of many feet. 

Tall, straight young men, keen-eyed, delicate faced, 
sharp features, pointed mustaches, and dressed in the 
height of fashion, ogling the girls as they pass by with 
glances that were amorous, but bereft of admiration 
which mingles with it respect. Men of thirty to thirty- 
five, forty-five, and fifty years, and on up. Well fed, 
well groomed, well watered and corpulent; their once 
fine features, coarsened and bloated, having puffy noses. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITV IS AWARE. 199 

and flaKby cheeks. If they saw a woman in the crovvrd 
who happened to please their fancy, they would meet 
her glance with a long, glaring stare, that had the cold 
glittering lasciviousness of the cat, when prowling about 
on his nocturnal perambulations, the cruel ferocity of 
the wolf, when lusting for his prey. 

No woman I am sure objects to an admiring glance 
from a man when mingled with respect, indeed she 
rather challenges it. 

The men and women we met on this street, like Third 
Avenue, were from all nations and climes. The low of 
stature, round fat prosperous Jew, who loves the flesh- 
pots of Egypt; the tall, fair portly Englishman, the 
Russian, and German, the dapper Frenchman, and the 
little dark Spaniard, the big broadshouldered Irishman, 
and his more refined brother, the Irish- American. The 
thin keen-eyed, sharp-featured, sallow-faced, quick of 
step, money-scenting native American. And the dark 
eyed, sad-faced passionate Italian. 

When we turned the corner of Twenty-third Street 
and Sixth Avenue, Gene laid his hand on my arm. 

“ Mr. Osgood, you have been in a brown study ever 
since we left Third Avenue, is it the people that have so 
interested you, that you couldn’t speak a word to a 
fellow.” 

“ Why bless your heart Gene, of course it is the peo- 
ple, the handsome men and women I have been so busy 
making mental notes of. Why didn’t you speak to me, 
say anything you want to. You didn’t tell me what 
place, or station in life these men and women occupy.” 

“ They don’t belong to the four hundred, they are all 
in th^ country, and with them the four or more thousand 
that hang onto the skirts of the four hundred, and the 
fifty or more thousand, which circle round the outer 
edge of the four thousand. The people we have jostled 
against belong to the four hundred thousand, mixture of 
all trades, and professions, including the fast, sporting 
fral:ernity,” answered Gene. 

“ And we will add the other four hundred thousand 
of the working canaille, and we will have what goes to 
make up the great city in a lump,” I replied. 


200 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


“ Here we are,” said Gene, when we came to a stop at 
Thirty-third Street opposite the Herald building. “We 
will walk west to Seventh Avenue ; along here is where 
the theatrical people hold forth. Here is the actors’ 
association, that white building across the street, also 
the club house, and cafe, and all along here are their 
hotels and boarding houses. Ah, here we are on Seventh 
Avenue. Now Mr. Osgood, you’ll get lots of plums 
here. The failures of life are to be found by the hun- 
dreds loitering about the saloons and club-houses on 
this street, and the Rains lavv^ is in full blast,” and Gene 
laughed, a big hearty laugh. “ We must take a walk 
here some Sunday evening, and if you want to see a 
greater exhibition of beer glasses than you ever saw in 
your life before, and the small piece of bread beside the 
glass for an excuse. If he had left the sandwich and 
hotel out of his bill, it might have done some good.” 

Here, like Third Avenue, were the Jew shops, second- 
hand clothing from the hat down to the shoe, tin shops, 
small drygood stores, groceries, and the saloon in all its 
glory and brilliance of plate glass, brass chandeliers, 
and electric lights. Never in all my years of young- 
manhood did I see such a display of saloons. Some 
were really palaces of vulgar grandeur, their flaming- 
lights a beacon to gather men like the flies, which swarm 
and circle around the electric lamps that hang high in 
the air, these palaces, drew the poor human flies. Men 
came and went, men of all types, of all nations, shades 
and conditions. As Gene said, broken-down men, the 
failures in the battle cf life; men who had lest their 
grip in the fray, "who were shattered by some predomi- 
nating weakness; men from forty-five to fifty years, who 
were well reared, well educated, with still some hold on 
the world. Their handsome faces seamed and seared 
with dissipation, and soaked to their hearts’ core with 
alcohol. 

Men of fifty and sixty, and upward, once prominent in 
the money marts of the metropolis, manipulating stocks 
and bonds to the amount of hundreds of thousands and 
millions. To wake up one morning and find themselves 
beggars, lost all but their habits of high, luxurious liv- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 201 

mg, self-indulgence, and passion for drink; and now 
spend their days hiding in some poorly-furnished room, 
in a second-class boarding and lodging house on the ave- 
nue, to limp out at night and hang around the large sa- 
loons, the men-catchers. Men from fifty to sixty, and 
seventy, with shoulders stooped, limping on canes, their 
visages stamped with every form of vice and debauchery. 
The divine in them utterly blotted out by the whiskey 
habit ; their old eyes leering, and their old hearts hard as 
flint, cursing life and fate, when they themselves turned 
the life so beautiful given them to what it is now. 

So we passed on with the crowd, passed the saloon 
palaces, with their flash and shine, their plate glass, their 
brass gildings, the light from their brilliant chandeliers 
falling on their red draped bars, where sparkled decant- 
ers of colored Venitian glass, and nude Parian statuary. 
And the crowd passed to and fro, men and women, 
young and old, passed on, will ever pass on, until the 
curtain of death falls over the scene, and shuts it out 
forever. 

“ Here,” said Gene, after we had gotten below Twen- 
tieth Street, “ all the lodging houses have been emptied 
of their human ants; watch and you will see strange 
sights.” 

Here the women became more numerous than the 
men ; old women with gray hair, wearing on their heads 
old battered straw hats, and little black mantles thrown 
over their shoulders ; coarse-faced, coarse-featured, and 
about as whiskey soaked as the men; middle-aged wo- 
men, better dressed, with coarse painted faces. Some 
of these old rakes wore rings on their fingers, clear to 
the first joint, that flashed and sparkled, and shot out 
gleams of pure white light, with every wave of their 
fans. Y oung women with lace scarfs thrown over their 
heads, their bold bright eyes shining out from the thick 
paint and powder on their comely features. Some very, 
very pretty, and now and then one saw amidst the 
throng a really handsome face. 

“ Take a good look at this girl coming tov/ard us,” 
said Gene, laying his hand on my arm, “ the tall girl in 
the buff lawn, with all that fluffy black lace up about 


202 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


her shoulders and neck. She is Kate Malone, but the 
boys called her Kate Kearney, on account of her beau- 
tiful Irish blue eyes, her musical voice, and her gay, 
ringing laugh. She lived across the street from us on 
the third floor of the tenement house opposite, with her 
mother, a widow, and two brothers. She was employed 
in a wholesale millinery house, and had a good position. 
One day, like Nina, she disappeared, and was gone over 
three years, when one night I happened to meet her ply- 
ing her vocation. She did not recognize me at first, not 
until I called her name, then she burst into tears, and 
begged me not to tell her mother, or her brothers, that 
I had seen her. Her brothers are indifferent, careless fel- 
lows; they have never put themselves out to find her. I 
asked her to walk a few blocks with me, and she told me 
how she came to leave home, how she was trapped into 
it by the lying promises of a son of her employer. Then 
he left her, and she became what she is now. I begged 
and plead with her to go home to her mother. She said, 
“ Some day I want to meet once more the man who 
ruined me. I have a few things to settle with him. I 
know I will meet him sooner or later. Every night I 
take up my hunt for him. You men don’t know how 
persistent a woman is in a chase like this. Oh, yes, I 
shall meet him, when he is not looking for me.” 

“ Before we parted I asked her if she ever came across 
any girl, whom she thought looked like my sister Nina, 
for she had left home before Nina, and it was not likely 
she had ever heard of Nina’s disappearance. She said 
she would recognize Nina anywhere, and would be apt 
to remark any girl who resembled her, for few of the 
girls had Nina’s beauty. Well here we are at Four- 
teenth Street. There is the big Metropolitan Temple, 
the church where Dr. Cadman preaches, he is a very 
able speaker, they hold meetings there every night, it 
must be long after service time, for the church is closed 
now.” 

We walked east on Fourteenth Street until we came 
to Sixth Avenue. Late as it was, the street was ablaze 
with light, while all the drygoods, and clothing shops 
were closed, the bakerys, confectioners, restaurants. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT ClTV IS AWAKE 203 


saloons, and hotels were open, and filled with peo- 
ple, like as if it were day. As we stood under the sta- 
tion of the Sixth Avenue elevated road, we debated 
whether to go up to Union Square, and take a Broad- 
way cable car, farther down town, but we finally con- 
cluded to take the elevated cars, and get out at the 
Eighth Street station. 

“ Here is the train now,” said Gene. In a few mo- 
ments we were up the stairs, and on the platform ; as 
soon as the train slacked up and the gates flew open, we 
boarded a car, we were scarcely on when the train pulled 
up at Clinton Place, the Eighth Street station where we 
got out. 

When we had walked a block or two, we crossed over 
to the opposite corner and stopped under a lamp post. 
I looked at my watch, it was half after one. There was 
no crowd here, although Broadway runs in here, with its 
great tall buildings, and brilliant lights, and the high 
rows of dark houses, farther up on Clinton Place, many 
of them old and dilapidated. As we walked on all was 
quiet, the silence only broken now and then by the foot- 
fall on the flagstone of a lone pedestrian. 

“ By George, Mr. Osgood, look up yonder, there is the 
patrol covered wagon, the police are making a quiet raid 
on that large house, come let us station ourselves here, 
in the shadow, of these high steps, the police will not 
observe us, from this distance, and we can see all that 
goes on. My ! Mr. Osgood, how you tremble,” remarked 
Gene, as I run my arm through his and clutched it above 
the elbow, for I was all alive, and on fire, with nervous 
tension. 

From where I stood, I could see through the slats of 
the closed blinds, lights passing, to and fro, the hurry- 
ing, and scurrying inside, of women. I could see two 
women, sitting in the wagon, a police officer sat in the 
front seat holding the reins of the horses. Ah, the door 
opens, I can see an officer, drag a girl out, I can see that 
she is very young, she has a long black cloak, wrapped 
about her, she is bareheaded, and her long black hair, 
falls, in rumpled braids down her back, as if she 
had just unfastened them from their comb. She seems 


204 


BEVERLY OSGOOD t 


to plead with him, she don’t want to go, she crouches 
down at his feet, but he picks her, np bodily, carries her 
down the steps, and almost flings her into the wagon. 

Before he has time to return, two more women are 
brought out, the policeman holding each by the arm. 
He hustles them into the wagon ; that makes flve 
women. I see him, turn and go back into the house 
again, while the one who brought the young girl out, 
stands by her, on the pavement. Now the lights have 
been all turned out in the house, the officer comes out 
and closes the door, after him and locks it, rurs down 
the steps, and jumps into the wagon, the police officer, 
standing on the pavement, follows after, and they drive 
away. Not a man was arrested. The police let them 
all escape. Not a sound was heard from the poor 
women, God help them, my heart, turned sick at the 
sight of so much injustice. 

“ Let us follow them,” said Gene, as I stood dumb, 
and almost paralyzed at the sight of such awful injustice, 
“ they will be taken to the tombs.” 

“We must pretend to be reporters, or we will not be 
admitted this time of night,” I said to Gene, as we 
hurried on after the wagon, which was driven west, then 
north in the direction of Centre Street, where the old 
prison tombs is situated. 

“ I fear I shall not be able to play that game,” said 
Gene, laughing. 

“ Well you must play you are looking for some one, a 
cousin, or a sister, which you are. You needn’t give 
your right name, or the name of the sister, or the cousin 
you are looking for.” The wagon had preceded us by 
several minutes, and the girls, were not in sight, when 
we arrived. We went up the stone steps, and into the 
wide stone floored hall. The gas was burning dimly, it 
was dark, and gloomy with a cold sepulchral air, and 
smell. The air and smell peculiar to prisons, and es- 
pecially old buildings, that for years, have been the 
sheltering places, of criminals, this strange species of 
the human race 

One of the three police, who made the arrest, and who 
was an officer, stood in the corridor. “ Well ye’s knows 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 20? 

Iiow it is,*' he said, in a broad Irish brogue, when I told 
him that I had witnessed the arrest of the girls, from 
the opposite side of the street, that I was a reporter for 
the “ World,’* and I wished to make an item, of it, for 
the paper. And the young man, with me was in search 
of a cousin of his, a young girl. “ Well ye knows how 
it is,’* he repeated, “ it’s our orders to break these re- 
sorts up. If the preachers go an makin* a fuss, an’ hav- 
in' laws passed, we’re in duty bound, to now an’ thin to 
enforce them, to kape our hand in, by the way, ye 
know. 

“ It’s all the Riverend Mr. Parkhurst’s doin’s, an* that 
Lexow Committee, an’ sure what good, have all the fuss 
done, not a bit, only to make crime more flagrant. Ye’s 
knows of course that a police officer runs the chance 
now of losin’ his job, by the way, if he’s caught figurin’ 
his palm, with a ten or twenty, but we makes them pay 
one way, or another. Of course we’re in duty bound to 
take them down. Ye’s knows my lads, how to make it 
smooth. Ha, ha. Ye’s can go in now,” he said, moving 
along the hall, “ there’s plenty of them in here, an* if ye 
young man, find yer cousin, among the girls, jist take 
her along wid ye, an’ if ye want help jist call me.” 

He unlocked a door that led into a wide passageway, 
“ Ye’s can jist pretend ye’re prisoners for the night.” 
There were small grated cells on each side, and iron- 
railed doors. The doors, were all open, but two. These 
cells were merely to hold the arrests for the night. At 
the south end of this short passageway, was a large 
room, with two small windows, barred with iron bars. 
In this room we found the five girls, just brought in. 
The gas here was faint and flickering and the air, was 
chill and damp, which made me shiver as with ague, the 
walls that were once upon a time white, were now a 
grayish mud color, as if the plaster had absorbed the 
.soil and grime, of years. The stone floor, was worn 
slippery b^y the tramp, tramp, of many feet, and was 
cracked and broken, and exuded dampness from every 
pore. Rats and mice, ran in and out as fearless, and 
frolicsome, as children at play. Insects and creeping 
things, crawled up and down the walls, and the benches 


2o6 


BEVERLV OSGOOt) ; 


were black with the reverend, and hoary dirt of a cen- 
tury. To the left hand side crouched up in one corner, 
was the girl I saw the police officer pick up and carry 
down the steps of the house, and fling into the wagon, 
like as if she were a bundle of clothes. She was very 
young, not more than sixteen or seventeen, years of age. 
Her long braids of brown-black hair, half loosened hung 
down over her neck, and shoulders, and its tangled bang, 
lay upon a low, wide forehead. She had an Italian type 
of face, with a rich olive complexion, and large black 
eyes ; the nose from the forehead down, was straight, 
and delicate, but the mouth with its full red lips, was 
somewhat coarse and sensual. Peeping out from under 
a long black silk circular, old and worn, but fur-lined, 
were two small feet, in low black slippers, with satin 
bows, and light blue silk stockings. The young thing 
seemed to shiver with cold, finally she rose up, and with 
a quick impatient gesture of her arm, flung back one 
side of her circular, and to my surprise and utter amaze- 
ment, she had nothing on underneath, but a white 
chemise, and underwear, all lace and ruffles, and her long 
blue silk hose, that were drawn up over her long slim 
limbs. Her figure was also tall and slim, and made me 
think of Bougeroue’s painting of La Cigale, she had just 
such a face and just such large soft mournful eyes. 

“ Zelda, draw that cloak about you, you will catch 
your death of cold in this miserable place,” called a wo- 
man who was walking up and down the stone floor in 
front of the benches where the girls were seated. She 
was from thirty to thirty-five years old, of medium size, 
and good figure. She wore a light evening brocaded 
silk, she was well corsetted, and well laced, for its bodice 
fit her to perfection. Her yellow hair lay in fluffy curls 
all over her head, and setting jauntly upon her curls was 
a white straw hat, with white wings and feathers. Her 
face was large, and not by any means forbidding. 

“ I warned you about Perkins, the brute!” she con- 
tinued, “ he slid down into the basement and out, the 
coward, and left you to the mercy of the police. We’ll 
see now if he’ll come before morning and bail you out, 
the cowardly miscreant,” Her cheeks were aflame, and 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 20J 


her light -blue eyes looked like balls of fire as she clasped 
her white hands, laden with rings, together, in nervous 
indignation. 

“ The brutes! traitors! to leave us in the clutches of 
the police,” she cried, pacing up and down, the heels of 
her shoes clicking upon the stone flooring, their echo 
falling back again from the dingy walls. Zelda rose to 
her feet, shook out her long cloak, wrapped it closer 
about her, smiled at one of the girls who was seated 
near her, and crouched down in her corner again, and 
drew her feet up under her cloak. 

“ Zelda’s just in trim for the ballet, she can tell the 
judge, if Perkins don’t show up before morning, that 
she was arrested as she came from the stage, “ the girl 
laughed heartily. She v/as about twenty years of age, 
a fair rosy-cheeked blond, with a profusion of golden 
hair, and large green-blue eyes, shaded by long light 
lashes. She was of medium height, her round plump 
figure clad in a thin blue lawn, with large gay flowers 
running through it. It was draped over blue silk, it’s 
bodice low necked and short sleeve, showing the white 
shapely arms and bosom. Thrown over her head and 
shoulders was a white knit shawl, the first thing she 
could pick up for a covering when arrested. 

“ Mima, it would become you better if you kept your 
remarks to yourself, this is not the parlor of No. — , 

C Place.” Mima looked at the girl, who was seated 

next to her, and tittered. This girl was nearly twenty- 
three years of age, and had the broad face, the deep-blue 
eye, and the dark chestnut -brown hair of the Irish- 
American girl. She was tall, and straight as an arrow, 
with much manner and dash about her, indicating her 
fast life, without marked coarseness. She wore a red 
silk waist trimmed in masses of white lace, and a black 
satin skirt, and black straw hat covered with gay flowers. 

“ Umph, one might as well be merry as sad. If Tom 
don’t make his appearance before morning. I’ll snap my 
fingers in his face and call it quits with him. A fellow 
that will go back on a girl like this ain’t worth a kick 
from my old shoe, and is a low, mean sneak. He was 


208 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


in the parlor with the rest of us, when the police came; 
how he got out, I don’t know.” 

She rose up, and walked to where Zelda crouched in 
her corner. “ Cheer up, Zelda,” she said, seating her- 
self between Mima and the poor young thing. “ I’d 
make a point to get even with Perkins ; he has plenty 
of money. He could have made it worth the police 
officer’s while, not to drag you here in that plight.” 
Zelda shivered as she spoke, and the tears moistened 
her large dark eyes. 

“ Perkins is one of the lowest, and meanest principled 
young men in New York City,” said the woman, who 
walked up and down and seemed to be the guardian of 
the girls. “ I warned her when she came to my house 
and told me her story, not to have anything to say to 
Perkins. He lavishes his money on a girl for a while, 
then it’s all over; he will sell a woman every time. I 
am going to shut the door of my house against him,’' 
and the Madame adjusted her hat, and the heels of her 
shoes came down on the stone floor with a firmer click. 

The fifth girl sat up in the corner near Zelda ; she was 
low of stature, but plump and round, with a Jewish type 
of face. Black haired, coarse-featured, and had a large 
sensual mouth. She was also dressed in evening cos- 
tume, with a bright silk waist and black skirt, low shoes, 
and red stockings. 

In the opposite corner of the room to my right, was 
another group of girls, and walking up and down in 
front of them, like a guard, was a woman, large and 
stout, and of nearly fifty years of age. Her years were 
not to be guessed from any show of silver threads 
among the golden-brown hair of her wig. Her face was 
large, broad, and fat, with coarse features, and a hard 
dissipated expression. She was dressed in a rich black 
satin brocade, the waist open in V shape at the neck, 
and falling away over the bust and shoulders, and back 
of the neck, was costly white lace, showing her full 
white throat ; the sleeves came just to her elbows, with 
a deep ruffle of the lace, but leaving quite a display of 
her white fat arms, and the broad Roman gold braclets 
which clasped her wrists. The large, white fat hands, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 209 


were laden to the first joint of her finger with rings, 
whose costly stone settings gleamed and flashed in that 
dark, cold prison, like stars sending out different hned 
lights. Wrapped about her head and shoulders was a 
black lace scarf, a costly fabric. She let a great oath 
out of her as she walked up and down, and her ample 
bosom rose and fell with wrathful indignation. 

“ Them police will swear to a woman protection, take 
her last cent, and this is the way they do it. We’re out- 
casts as they calls us, but we’re women, and human 
bein’s all the same, and have some feelin’, an’ perhaps 
not half so bad as them as pertends to be better. I wish 
they’d let me spake through the newspapers, I could tell 
the Riverend Mr. Parkhurst a thing or two; I could give 
a few names that would open the Riverend gentleman’s 
eyes, and the Lexow Committee too, an’ if that body of 
dignified gentlemen did hear them, they’d have them 
suppressed, for I never saw them in print. I have kept 
house in this city nearly thirty years, an’ I know a thing 
or two, if I’d care to squeal. An’ after all’s said an’ 
done, whose made us what we are ? The cowards who 
desert us, sneak off and leave us to the mercy of the 
inhuman brutes of the law, as if we had broken any law. 
We hasn’t stole or murdered, or picked pockets, and 
niver a girl has I allowed to be wronged in my house,” 
and she let another great oath out of her. 

“ I’ll niver be taken here alive, again, nor will I let a 
boarder in my house, be brought to this pest-hole, that’s 
sure. It makes me crawl all over, and I am not over 
sensitive.” As she walked up and down, the dim flame 
of the gas-jets, flickered and threw out her shadow on 
the stone floor, the shadow of the woman on the oppo- 
site side of the room, lengthened until their heads 
touched, and they seemed to clasp each other around the 
waist, and waltz to the click of their heels, whose vibra- 
tion resounded like the stroke of the stone mason’s ham- 
mer, and came echoing back from the dirty grimy walls, 
where the figures, and the faces of the girls, made 
grotesque silhouettes. 

“ Let us go,” said Gene, “ it makes me sick; my very 


210 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


soul revolts against such sights. Like politics, and gov- 
ernment, might is right here.” 

We were just in the act of turning to leave when we 
heard the key click in the lock of the passageway door. 
I turned my eyes in that direction, for w^e were standing 
in the hall, before the door, which led into the room I 
have been just describing. “Heavens,” I cried inwardly, as 
the door swung open, and a whole batch of women were 
pushed in. “ Let us stand aside, up here in the corner. 
Gene, and let them pass in.” I counted fourteen, scarcely 
one of them over thirty, and from that down to sixteen, 
and seventeen. The most conspicuous figures in the 
crowd, were three girls, in long black silk cloaks, like 
Zelda’s wrapped about them, only their’s were newer 
and of richer material. It appeared they were arrested 
at some club-house, where they were engaged to dance 
a certain kind of dance, during the evening. These 
girls had so attracted my attention, that I paid little heed 
to the others, only to give them a sweeping glance, until 
Gene touched me on the shoulder. “ Kate Kearney, by 
George,” he said in a sort of hoarse whisper, his face a 
gray pallor. 

“ The deuce, there she is sure, that tall, straight fig- 
ure of a girl in the buff dress, and black lace, the one 
you pointed out to me on Seventh Avenue, I had but a 
passing view of her then, but now that I see her closer, 
she is decidedly handsome. With large Irish blue eyes, 
blue as violets, and shaded by long dark lashes, a pale 
skin and finely shaped expressive features. The whole 
face, framed by a peculiar shade of russet-brown hair, 
the kind that Titian painted and yet somewhat different 
too, as it belongs solely to the daughters of the Irish, of 
that type of beauty, and I could think of no word more 
suited to this girl, than the word, fine. A pang shot 
through my heart, as I stood watching her and thought, 
how could anyone, man or woman, mar so perfect a being 
physically, for the life she lead, was beginning to leave 
its marks upon her face ; she looked to me as if she had 
been drinking, and was reckless and desperate. Another 
girl, with repulsive aspect, stood near her, and was ad- 
dressing some remark to her, which made Kate laugh 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


21 1 


and then I heard the voice that Gene spoke of, ring 
out. Although a little hysterical, it was delightfully 
musical, rising in vibrations like a clarionette, then dying 
away on the ear, in the low tones of a flute. 

will save her from the Island,” said Gene. “If 
some one don’t go on her bail, she will be sent to the 
Island, to work her fine out. I can pretend to the cap- 
tain of the police, she is the cousin I was in search of.” 

The girls in the long black cloaks, whose spirits 
were not the least bit daunted, although they were all 
arrested in their dancing costume, the police giving them 
no time to change their attire, wrapped their cloaks about 
them which nearly all women of that timbre carry with 
them, being out late at night. 

“ I don’t care zat,” cried one, snapping her fingers, and 
throwing back her circular, showing a long, lithe body, 
and limbs, in silk flesh-colored tights. Just a white 
satin girdle around her waist, all crusted with jewels, 
a white satin scarf, crossed over from the left shoulder, 
under the bosom, and fastened to the right, and her arms 
and neck were aflame with shining gems. “ My agent 
will be zere in a little while. Ah, I feel zo zorrie fo 
pauvre Madamoiselles. Oh, police, zo horrible. Ize no 
bad, to dance ize ma profession. Za young Messieurs, 
za must have me dance, Ize dance fo pay. Za young 
Messieurs, za must have zare frolic, za driiik whisky 
an’ za go to hell anyway, an’ za police can une 
stop zem. Mon Dieu it ize zo horrible,” and she stuck 
out her little foot, in its white satin soleless slipper, and 
upon her ankles, were wide bracelets of gold, studded 
with jewels. Ah, bah, zare ize no use to feel zad, mer 
cJiercSy I like to make you feel light. You like me dance, 
I za un mind, I zink ite ize za stage, in mon Maison de 
Ville.” And she threw back her head, a mass of black 
curls, and laughed, a ringing laugh. “ I will no dance 
ze dance, I dance for za young Messieurs,” she went on 
in her gay French way, “ but I like za amuse, ma pauvre 
femme dejoiesT The woman on the right of me in the 
black satin dress, stopped her pacing up and down, the 
younger madame to the left did the same, and the girls 


212 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


cleared the middle of the floor, and stood about in a 
ring. 

The French woman tied her circular cloak at her neck, 
and let it fall down about her ankles, then with her right 
hand she lifted up one corner of it, stretched out a beau- 
tifully formed, and slender leg, straight out like an arm. 
Then slowly from the heel, lifted the left foot, until she 
stood on her large toe, then spun around and around, 
like a top. With the left hand, she raises the left cor- 
ner of her cloak, skirt, also her left leg, until it almost 
touches her head, and stands on the big toe of her right 
foot, and whirls and spins around like a wheel. She 
throws her cloak up, and gathers it in fan shape, about 
her shoulders, bends her long, slender serpentine body, 
and skips across the floor, her small feet barely touching 
the flag-stones. 

All the women stand about silently, and intently watch- 
ing, glad for a few moments to forget their troubles, 
and disgrace. Lightly as a feather, the dancer trips, 
gracefully she bounds, and rounds, in sensuous abandon. 
Faster, she turns and hurls, and swurls, and coils, her 
limber body like a snake. I drew my hand across my 
eyes, to shut out the sight of this prison room. Its walls 
black and grimy with filth, crime, and sin of a century, 
and the witness of many such gruesome scenes. The 
windows thick with dust and cobwebs, the dim flicker- 
ing of the gas-jets, with their sickly flame, throwing the 
shadows of the upturned faces of the women, on the 
wall’s dingy surface, these poor creatures arrested and 
thrown into prison, while their partners in sin go free. 
How different from all the ideals of my youth, my boy- 
hood, my home, and my own lovely and gentle mother. 
I am sure she would be pitiful to such as these. 

On went the dancer in her pirouetting, in her fantas- 
tic gyrations, her shadow on the wall, looking like some 
impish demon, which had come to mock these poor 
wretched outcasts. On she went, in her mad whirls, 
madder, and madder, until her cloak wound all about 
her body, from her shoulders to her ankles, like the coils 
of a black snake. Then with a leap and a bound she 
stops in the middle of the floor, crosses her arms, and 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 213 


bows to her audience. The women shake their hand- 
kerchiefs, smile, nod their heads, but not a sound above 
the voice of speech, is heard. “ Za young Messieurs, 
pay one-hundred dollars fo zat dance. I left out much 
za oui.” The other two dancers unwound her cloak, 
and wrapped it about her, she then followed them to the 
bench where they seated themselves; her spirits had 
fallen, she seemed to have worked off all her exuberance 
in her dance, poor thing, for she sat without speaking a 
word to her companions, with her head bent, and her 
hands covering her face. 

“ I am going to speak to Kate Kearney,” said Gene, 
“then we will go,” and with that the hall door opened 
again, said two women, with the matron of the prison 
entered. 

I stood as if rooted to the floor, in my surprise, for I 
saw the queenly figure, the stately air, the long black 
silk mantle, the white hat, and long white veil of gauze, 
of my Lady of the Boulevard. “ Stay,” I said to Gene, 
“ don’t go in yet, here is some one I have met before, 
the lady I told you about,” for I had related to Gene, 
that night’s experience on the Boulevard. The woman 
accompanying my Lady, was of medium height, rather 
stout, but of good figure. She wore a black dress, of 
some thin material, and around her shoulders, a small 
black cape. She had a large pleasant face, small laugh- 
ing blue eyes, and silver threads streaked her coarse, 
abundant brown hair, which was combed back from her 
brow in a sort of pompadour style. Upon her head, she 
wore a little black straw bonnet trimmed with plain 
black ribbon, the strings of the ribbon tied under her 
chin. While her clothes looked as if they were pitched 
on her with a fork, and like Peggoty, she had burst a 
button here and there, and used a pin for the lack of 
time to sew the button on again. Yet there was about 
her a very respectable air. And one thing impressed 
me more than anything else, in her whole appearance, 
was the religious fervor that shone in her face. 

As my Lady passes me, her large calm eyes, brightened 
with recognition, and when she entered the room, fol- 
lowed by her companion, a buzz of whispers, went aroun^ 


214 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


from one to the other. Those who knew her told those 
who didn’t, who and what her mission was, those so far 
as they knew, but most of them had a sort of supersti- 
tions awe of her, mingled with great respect. 

“ My sisters,” she said in a voice low, musical, but 
distinct, “ I would have saved you from this prison, but 
I was too far away from the patrol wagon. I caught a 
glimpse of you, about three blocks away ; my visual sight 
did not reach quite that far, but I saw you; neither did 
my power, if I had been nearer, I could have stopped the 
wagon, until I came up. I can’t save you now from the 
sentence of the judge, unless some of your friends come 
and go your bail, which means to go back to your old 
life of sin, and have this repeated again and again. But 
if any woman here during our prayer, experiences a 
change of heart, and repents, I will take them with me 
to a place of shelter, where they will be cared for, made 
comfortable and taught, until they throw off old habits, 
and sins, and become new women. Now my sisters, 
let us kneel in prayer. Mrs. Marstan, lead us in prayer.” 

The Madame in black satin, who had enjoyed the 
dance so hugely a few moments before, went down on 
her knees, with a flop, so did most of the girls, Kate 
Kearney with them. The three dancers, with a few 
others sat in stolid indifference, but the younger Madame, 
on the left, knelt, and my lady, herself, knelt on the cold 
flag-stones. Katherine, as she called her friend, had 
fallen upon her knees the first one, and for a second 
there could have been heard a pin drop. 

Then I saw Katherine raise one hand up to her head, 
and tilt her bonnet to one side, by the way of a prelude, 
then raise both hands and press them together, then she 
began in clear distinct tones. She plead with God, to 
send the holy spirit, in great power, and touch the hearts 
of these poor children of sin. “ My God,” she cried out, 
“ be merciful. Come with all thy consuming fire, and 
burn the sin out of them. This awful sin, which has 
dragged them down to this prison to-night, this den of 
iniquity, when they should be safely housed, and asleep 
hours ago, in their beds, like Christians, tucked in by 
their mothers, and enjoying the sweet sleep of the pure 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


and blessed children of God, and watched over by His 
angels. See my children, see my sisters, see yourselves, 
what the wages of sin are. This prison-room, with its 
reeking filth, its vermin- creeping walls, its slimy stones, 
damp with the disease, and sickness, of crime. Alive 
with rats and mice, and human beings made into rats 
and mice, by sin. From your luxuriously furnished 
rooms, from the brilliant gilded stage, from the wine- 
cup, from your lovers’ arms, from all the sensual pleas- 
ures, which have dragged you here, where even the gas 
can throw out but a sickly flame; dark, damp aid cold, 
with disease and death. Y our lovers, my children, where 
are they ? Have they stood by you, have they stretched 
forth a helping hand, to save you from prison, disgrace, 
and death ? ah, yes, death, in its worst sense. This is 
human frailty, this is man’s cowardice. Fear not him, 
who can but kill the body, but rather fear Him, who can 
destroy both body, and soul. 

“ Oh, I pray you my sisters, turn to one who will never 
forsake you. ‘ He who comes unto me I will in no wise 
cast out.’ So spoke the Saviour of men; oh, how gentle 
He was, how loving, how divinely sweet and gracious; 
how He longed to gather the erring and sin-sick into 
His fold, and especially such as you, my poor sisters. 
Pure Himself, as the mountain dew, and the stars that 
first sang in the morning of the creation. He has never 
turned a deaf ear, to the sinner.” Her voice had risen 
from low, soft notes, higher, and higher, it rang in trum- 
pet-like sounds, until it seemed to pierce the old walls 
of the prison, and make them tremble and crack, with 
its depths and strength, of pleadings to God. 

“ I thank thee, my heavenly Father,” she continued, 
“that thou didst send thy beloved son, down to earth, 
to teach the children of men, for it was, and could be 
only through Him, that we have learned of thee. That 
thou art not the awful, terrible, and jealous God of the 
Jews, but the loving Father. Oh, turn to Him, my sisters, 
I beg of you to turn to this blessed Christ Jesus, the 
Saviour of men. He will give you a new heart. He will 
cleanse you from all sin, if you repent. He will wash you 
whiter than snow. Come, oh Holy Spirit, Heavenly 


2i6 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


Dove, and tonch these dead hearts, these dead souls, 
dead in trespasses and sin, and touch them with coals 
of living fire; awake them my God, awake them to a 
sense of the sin in them, I pray thee for Christ’s sake.” 

As the last sentence died on her lips, there was a noise 
in the corner to the left, and over the benches, came 
leaping the slim, girlish figure of Zelda, in her old black 
silk cloak, who threw herself on her knees beside my 
lady, and flung her arms about her neck. “ Oh, save me, 
Madame, save me from this prison, I will go with you 
anywhere, I will be so good, I will work for you, I will 
be your slave, if you will just but save me. I have never 
been in prison before. See Madame,” and she threw 
back her cloak, “ I was arrested in this condition. I will 
die of shame, if I have to go before the judge in the 
morning. I will not go, I will destroy myself first. I 
will plunge this, Madame, into my heart, rather than go 
before the judge in this plight,” and she opened her closed 
hand, and showed lying in her small palm, an ivory- 
handled lady’s penknife. “ I brought it along in case 
Perkins shouldn’t come to release me.” 

“ Perkins,” cried my lady, who had risen from her 
knees, and was standing with her hand on the head of 
the still kneeling Zelda. “ Ah, my poor girl, if the police 
would arrest and chain this monster Perkins, this wolf 
in sheep’s clothing, who goes about devouring the lambs ; 
but instead they arrest the lambs, and let the wolves go 
free. Ah, when will justice ever reign ?” 

“ Take me, Madame, you are so good I love you, I will 
never go with Perkins, if he should come this minute, 
no never, I hate him.” 

“ Rise my dear child, I will take you home with me. 
Any one else ?” 

No one moved. Hooked in the direction of where Kate 
Kearney sat, she had her handkerchief to her eyes, and 
seemed to be weeping. Katherine took charge of Zelda, 
but the poor girl clung to my lady with childish te- 
nacity. “ Mrs. Marstan will take charge of you dear, 
while I go and speak with this gentleman.” She then 
came out to the door, where Gene and myself, stood. 
“ I am so pleased to see you here,” she said, holding out 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 2I7 


her hand to me, “ how did you manage to gain admittance 
behind the scenes ?” 

“ As a reporter,” I answered. 

“Could you find me a hack, I am going to take that 
young girl home to my house.” 

“ I shall only be too glad to serve you, in any way. 
Will you allow me to introduce you to my friend, Mr. 
Eugene Lunis, Mr. Lunis, this is — ” I hesitated a mo- 
ment, “ My Lady.” 

“ I have something here for you,” she replied, her 
beautiful eyes and mouth, smiling at me. “ I have been 
carrying it since we first met, to give you when chance 
should throw us together again; I don’t mean to say, 
that our meeting here is chance. Oh, no, that would be 
silly, to think that; you recollect I told you that night 
that we didn’t meet to part so soon.” She took from her 
pocket, a finely wrought silver card-case, opened it and 
handed me a card. I thanked her, and placed it in the 
inside pocket of my coat. Mrs. Marstan, and my Lady, 
after having a few moment’s conversation with the 
woman Zelda had boarded with, came out, Mrs. Marstan 
leading the poor shivering girl by the hand. Gene, in 
the meantime had gone to speak with Kate Kearney, 
and bring her into the hall. She cried bitterly, when 
she saw him. Then Mrs. Marstan, Gene, Kate Kearney, 
my Lady, and myself, went to the door, where a police 
officer stood on guard, he opened the door, and allowed 
us to pass out into the entrance hall, where we found 
the same sergeant. Gene told him he had found his 
cousin, and she had consented to go home with him. 
“ All right, ye jist take her along wid ye, no use havin’ 
any preliminaries.” 

“ Wait here Gene, until I return, I am going to call 
a carriage for my Lady, then we will both see Kate to her 
home. In a few minutes I was back, not having far to 
go for the hack; my Lady spoke to the driver and told 
him where she wanted him to go. “ We will all stop 
there to-night, Katherine, it is too late now to go out to 
the Park.” 

I handed my Lady into the carriage, then Mrs. Marstan 
and Zelda, whose large eyes smiled up in my face, as I 


2i8 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


lifted her bodily into the cab. “ Adieu/* said my Lady, 
holding out her hand to me, “ God be with you, till we 
meet again.’* 

“ Adieu, and God bless you,** I answered, and the cab 
was driven away. I went back to the hall where Gene, 
and Kate awaited me. 

“ Did ye know that woman, ye jist now got the cab 
for ? I mane the tall one.** 

“ I have met her once before,** I replied. 

“ The police dread her, she seems to be a sort of a 
magician, there’s no knowing where she’ll turn up on us. 
She’s on the track of all them women. I don’t moind her 
getting hold of the lambs, loike the kid she captured to- 
noight, but if she thinks she can reform thim old stagers, 
she’s moightily mistaken.” 

Gene thanked the sergeant for allowing him to take 
his cousin home. “ Yis, if ye can kape her home ; I hope 
ye will wid all me heart, if ye can.” 

We left the prison, Kate walking by the side of Gene: 
she was deeply affected, and she wept bitterly, as Gene 
pleaded with her, to go back home to her mother. “ Give 
me time to think Gene, about it,” she said, through her 
tears. “ If you and your friend, will just see me to my 
lodging, for the police will arrest me again, if I am caught 
on the street this hour of the night alone.” 

At last we reached Kate Kearney’s lodging-house, and 
stood before its door a moment. “ Don’t Mr. Lunis, I 
beg of you, tell my mother, or my brothers, of this, or 
that you ever laid eyes on me since I left home. I am 
forever dead to them. Good-night, and I thank you 
over and over again, for your kindness ; you have saved 
me from the Island, good-night.” Gene took the hand 
she held out to him, and shook it warmly, and she went 
in, and as she closed the door, the faint light of the ap- 
proaching dawn fell over her, and she passes out of sight, 
as a traveller, met on the roadside of life’s journey, and 
is seen no more. 

When we reached Twenty-third Street and Sixth 
Avenue, we stopped a moment under the elevated sta- 
tion. “ She was not among them,” said Gene, holding 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 2ig 


out his hand to me. “No, and I would stake my life, 
Nina never will be found among that class.” 

“ Never,” I answered, “ but she will be found, some 
day. Gene, and I am sure before long,” I said, by way 
of easing my conscience, for it accused me of selfishness 
in not telling him of her discovery before, but I had my 
plans and I wished to carry them out. We parted here 
with the promise to soon meet again. As I stood upon 
the platform of the elevated station, waiting to take the 
cars to go home, the dawn was breaking in the east, and 
the great city awakening to action, that is if it ever sleeps. 
Several men were on the platform, and others came 
trooping up, then the train from down-town, came steam- 
ing in, when I entered the car, it was crowded with men, 
of all kinds and conditions in life, and following all 
callings, returning to their lodging-houses and homes. 
Men who work by night, as well as by day. New York 
City is a bee-hive, while one-half of its population sleeps, 
the other works, plays and dissipates, and vice versa. 
When I arrived at the Quinton mansion, Michael was 
not yet up, which pleased me greatly. I stole quietly 
in and up to my room. When I went to close the inside 
blinds of my windows, so that I might have a few hours 
sleep, I looked up to the sky. The deep violets of the 
night, had faded into a clear azure blue, flecked by white 
fleecy clouds illumined by the glory of the eastern 
heavens. And pale golden beams streaked the shutters, 
I closed them and ended my night’s vigil. 


CHAPTER VII. 

MARGARET DEVERAUX. — AT HOME. 

The first thing on rising, which I did very late, was 
to feel in my coat pocket for the card my lady handed 
me at the Tombs. I found engraved upon it the name, 
‘ Madame Margaret Deveraux, No. — Audubon Park, 
At Home Fridays from three to ten P. M., and Wednes- 


220 


BEVERLV OSGOOD ; 


day evenings. On the back was written, come Wed- 
nesday evening, I shall have more time to talk with 
you.” Margaret Deveraux. Two or three evenings 
after the scenes in the Tombs, I left my room, having 
in prospective an exceedingly and delightful visit. 

I was not acquainted with the location my Lady lived 
in, but on making inquiries I found that the Sixth Ave- 
nue elevated train would take me to a hundred and seven- 
tieth Street, the end of the line, and it was in that 
vicinity. 

After leaving the train I had to climb two or three 
long flights of stairs, which brought me to a broad, clean 
stone paved street, but that part of it was a bridge, 
crossing a deep ravine to the heights and hills beyond. 
It was quite a walk west from the station, and uphill, 
but charming. I got a glimpse of the country, stretches 
of open unbuilt ground, here and there a stately elm, 
or ash, which wafted a whifE of cool fresh scented 
breeze to my cheek as I passed them. Although the 
tall houses, and the big obnoxious apartment hotels fol- 
lowed me, they were not so close together. 

As I walked I came across some old homesteads with 
tall trees clustering about them, the closing August days 
having tinged to russet some of their leaves. Like the 
man, or woman, coming to the forties finds a few silver 
threads among the brown, the black or gold hair. After 
crossing Tenth Avenue, I caught a glimpse of the beautiful 
Audubon Cemetery, where there is a fine monument and 
bust of white marble of the great naturalist. I also had 
a view of the blue waters of the Hudson. On the 
opposite side of the street I saw a police officer; I 
crossed over and inquired of him the direction of the 
Park, he very civily pointed to an open gate about half 
a block away. As I entered the gate, I thought what a 
charming place this private park is, with its magnificent 
trees, its green lawns, its fine old frame mansions, with 
their broad porches, piazzas and baywindows, and 
gable roofs, reminding me of the homes of the rich, and 
well-to-do in my own city, only they were built of brick 
and stone. 

I soon found the number given on the card ; it was a 


01^, WHEN THE CREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


521 


large old-fashioned mansion of two stories, and built of 
wood, with porches, porticoes, and bay-windows. Such 
a house as I would imagine my Lady to live in. I rang 
the bell, which was answered by a maid; a bright-faced 
woman of thirty years or older, in a white cap and apron. 
I was admitted into a wide old-time hall, broad and long 
as a room, with a spacious winding stairway that would 
delight the heart and eye of an artist ; also a hall-tree 
of old-fashioned mahogany, where I hung my hat and 
left my cane. 

I gave my card to the maid as she ushered me into a 
large room to my left, with bow- windows. In compari- 
son to Mr. Quinton’s and Nina’s house, its furnishings 
and decorations were plain, but it showed a simplicity, 
originality, and an exceeding purity, and refinement of 
taste in every article, which pleased me greatly. In its 
white muslin curtains, willow chairs, cushioned and 
draped in soft materials, and artistic colors. In its easy 
lounges, pictures, some fine old oil-paintings, small, but 
by the best masters; also several exquisite water colors. 
A fine old steel engraving of the Madonna, of the Lily, 
a favorite with women of the Madame Deveraux kind; 
this hung in a gilt frame of Italian workmanship over 
the mantlepiece. Lovely Oriental rugs, soft as feathers, 
and matching the carpet of delicate blue ground, and 
books, everywhere, in cases, on shelves, and on the 
large center-table. A large Steinway piano and an organ 
stood in the lower end of the room, and lying on the 
piano was a violin case. The bric-a-brac was numer- 
ous, and of the best; and across the hall I caught a 
glimpse of what I took to be the drawing-room. I had 
not been seated long, when I heard a light footstep, and 
the swish of drapery, and Madame Margaret Deveraux, 
who I shall still designate as my Lady, entered, and ex- 
tended to me her hand. My heart leaped to my mouth 
and almost choked me, as I rose from my seat, and my 
eyes rested a moment in worshipful reverence on this 
lovely woman, this vision in white. My pen fails me 
here, I cannot describe how her robe was made, I only 
know that it seemed to drape and swathe her body, trail 
and float about her tall, magnificent figure. Her dark 


222 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


abundant hair was brushed back from her noble brow, 
its coils fastened at the back of the ears with a comb of 
pearls. The gray streak, so conspicuous, made a fillet 
of silver crowning the head, which rose grandly on her 
ivory column-like neck. And oh, her face, so strangely 
beautiful, so young, and yet so mature in thought, and 
intellect ; so motherly with it all. I took her hand and 
bent low before her, unable to speak, but she soon put 
me at my ease. 

“ I am pleased to see you here to-night,” she said, 
“ be seated.” But I remained standing until she seated 
herself in one of the easy chairs, when I resumed mine, 
but first drawing it nearer to hers. 

“ I have much to say to you,” she continued, raising 
a white shapely hand, and smoothing the coils of her 
hair; a habit with some women. I observed that she 
wore but a plain band of gold on the third fipger of the 
left hand, which told me she was either a wife or a 
widow; this was all the ring she wore, not another 
piece of jewelry about her person. “ Although we are 
strangers, but not strangers in spirit.” 

“ I do so wish not to be a stranger on that line,” I re- 
plied. “ While I think no man can hope to reach to the 
spiritual heights of an intellectual pure and stainless 
woman, his very nature is against it, yet he can strive 
for a higher spiritual plane, and woman can do much to 
help him.” 

“ Yes, if men will allow her; still few women make 
use of the power which is theirs; most of them are 
ignorant of it, even where the nature is refined, and the 
inclinations intellectual and spiritual, they remain dor- 
mant, undeveloped, and rather retard than help the 
father, brother, or husband.” 

“ I suppose one acts upon the other, and vice versa,” 
I remarked. “ No two lives exist,” she said, “ when 
bound together in the close relationship of marriage, but 
one acts upon the other. If the husband is a man in 
whom the moral is at a low ebb, and the animal reigr-s 
king, and his wife the opposite, she will either influence 
him to seek better things, or after awhile go down to 
his level. But if she has the courage and the strength 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 223 


to go steadily on in her own course, pursuing the higher 
life, and she cannot lead the husband with her, he will 
be sure, sooner or later to create in her a repugnance 
and contempt. They may live out their lives together 
in this way; some for the sake of their children, some 
for other reasons, and there are those who still hope for 
the man’s improvement. And it may be that the wife 
is the animal, and the husband the superior, and seeker 
after a higher life, which can be much attained to here 
on this earth. I was very much surprised to find you 
at the Tombs the other night. I knew we would meet 
again, but the Tombs never entered my head, and at 
such a late hour. Why the morning was breaking when 
our carriage stopped at the gate of my downtown house. 
Did you follow the last patrol wagon full?” 

“ My young friend Eugene Lunis and myself, started 
cut early in the evening on a reconnoitering tour of the 
city to see what we could see. He was the pilot, being 
born and reared in New York City, and acquainted 
with its streets from its center to its circumference.” I 
then related to her, all the incidents of how we came to 
be in the Tombs prison, and after witnessing some 
strange and grewsome performance by the women 
arrested, we were just in the act of leaving when the 
last wagon full was brought in, and which was the one 
she followed. 

“ Yes, Katharine and myself were detained at the 
door for several minutes talking to the sergeant. The 
police have a great dislike to myself, and do all they can 
to hinder and thwart me in my work of reform among 
these women.” 

“ If you had happened to be there ten or fifteen 
minutes sooner, you would have witnessed a strange 
sight. One of the three French women in the long 
black cloaks, arrested in all her stage regalia, danced 
the skirt dance to cheer her sisters in misfortune. She 
danced it by making a skirt of her long circular cloak, 
and if she didn’t handle that cloak in an expert fashion 
it was a caution. I never saw anything like it, the 
famous Fanny Elsler, couldn’t beat her. She evidently 
was not going to dance th^ skirt dance before her audi- 


224 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


ence at the club, for she was not dressed for it. I be- 
lieve the police heard of it, and therefore the arrest; I 
think she expended all her French exuberance of spirits 
caused by her arrest, and when brought to the prison 
worked it off in that way. For after her performance 
she seemed to realize where she was, went over to a 
bench where her companions had been seated, and 
threw herself down and buried her face in her hands ; 
she remained in that position all through your talk and 
Mrs. Marstan’s prayer.” 

“ I did not send Zelda to the home as was my first 
intention; I brought her home here with me, and will 
keep her here for awhile. I learned from her that she 
is an orphan, brought up in a Catholic convent, from 
which she made her escape with a girl friend, who was 
at school there ; Zelda was given leave from the Superi- 
oress to go home with this girl on a short visit. This 
girl was three years older than Zelda, and it seems 
there was a large family of small children besides her- 
self. Zelda had been at the home of her girl friend for 
several weeks, the mother of her friend informed her, 
she would either have to return to the convent, or find 
herself another home. I have reason to believe from 
what Zelda told me, that her girl friend was not just 
what she ought to be, for she had much gentlemen 
company. 

“ One day, her companion accompanied by a young 
man, invited her to dine with them at a restaurant ; 
here she was introduced to Perkins, who joined the 
party later, and paid for the feast. Perkins was very 
much taken with Zelda, who after two weeks’ acquaint- 
ance with Perkins, left her schoolmate’s house, and 
went to board with the woman, who was arrested with 
her the other evening. This establishment was found 
by Perkins, who had promised to marry my protege, 
and she went there to get ready her trousseau. He did 
buy her two trunks full of beautiful clothes. The wo- 
man was true to her word, and sent them to her. The 
arrest and carrying to prison was the blow to her 
romance, and the denouement of the drama. She is 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 225 

very repentant, begs me not to send her away, and 
weeps bitterly over her fall and Perkins's treachery. 

“ My household now consists of myself, my maid, 
housemaid, and cook, and a hired man. I keep no car- 
riage now, having two years ago disposed of it ; it is so 
easy now to get to all parts of the city by rail and street 
cars, besides, I am free from the care of a coachman 
and horses, and the money it costs me to keep them I 
can put to other use. I would not for the world have 
these know where I brought Zelda from. I also cau- 
tioned her never to divulge the secret to any of my ser- 
vants. They will think she is some orphan girl who I 
have taken to find a home for; something that I often 
do. I see she has much refinement of nature, besides a 
clinging, affectionate disposition. I think I know who 
this Perkins is; he is the son of a millionaire; a profli- 
gate, and libertine, generous in some respects so far as 
money goes to the woman he ruins. Yes, my poor 
child, it will take some time to eradicate from her body 
and mind this fall. Mrs. Marstan, my companion on 
that night, is the matron of a home I established for 
these women, all through my own exertions. I own the 
house, and had it arranged for that purpose; two other 
prominent and wealthy women are interested in it now; 
they help with their money, but do not go out as I do to 
gather the lost sheep of the house of Israel into the fold. 

“ I have known Mrs. Marstan a number of years; she 
has been, and is a devoted Christian, and a great worker 
in the cause of Christ. She has the witness of the spirit 
to a wonderful degree, and is peculiarly gifted in prayer. 
She lost her husband about three years ago, he was a 
railroad engineer; an American, intelligent, high- 
spirited, moral, and of much eccentricity of character. 
From some cause he lost his position on the road. In 
the meantime he took a severe cold, which turned into 
consumption, and when he died he left her penniless. 
Before he passed to the other side, he was at peace with 
the world and his God, and died in Christ Jesus. After 
he died I brought Katherine to my house, where she re- 
mained until I founded my Home, and placed her in it as 


226 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


matron ; she is a great help to me ; she has been, and is 
a sister to me in all things. 

“ When Katherine came to my house after the death 
of her husband, I had been a widow myself nearly two 
years. I tell you this so that you may know somethirg 
of what led up to my present mode of life. But unlike 
my friend, I had not the happiness of seeing my hus- 
band die a Christian. When twenty years of age, I 
married a man whom I thought the very embodime^ t 
of my ideal (my bump of ideality is quite prominent). 
He was peculiarly handsome, and manly in appearance ; 
he had all the elegance of manner, which breeding, 
family, social position, and a fine education gives to a 
man. These advantages don’t always polish the man, 
and make him a gentleman. But Doctor Deveraux was 
the ideal of my dreams of a husband; he was very 
gifted, a lover of music, literature, the drama and fine 
arts, and all that was beautiful, good, and true; as I 
supposed. He was the son of an eminent Episcopalian 
clergyman. They were an old aristocratic family, but 
not rich. My husband had studied for a physician, and 
intended to make that his profession. He was in his 
thirtieth year when we were married. I think my 
large fortune had something to do with his downfall. 

“ My father dying a few years after our marriage, and 
I being an only child, my mother having died ten years 
before, I was sole heir to my father’s large estate. His 
will also, after a few bequests, left all to me, and placed 
it in such a way that my husband would have no con- 
trol over it. My father knew I would not squander 
foolishly the fortune he intrusted to my care. Still it 
did not hinder my husband from using large sums of 
my money. I was a willing giver to him, until I saw 
the fortune that I must render an account of was fast 
slipping away, wasted by him for dinners and wine sup- 
pers at Delmonicos, costing thousands of dollars. 
Dinners to actors, actresses, and singers; flowers in 
winter, costing immense sums, sent to singers; theatre 
parties, which I never accompanied him to, with the 
exception of one or two, the first few years of our mar- 
riage. After the theatre, suppers, lasting until the morn- 


/ 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 22/ 

ing broke, and where the best of foreign wines were drank 
as freely as water. 

“ He never pretended to practice his profession; he 
never visited a poor, sick man or woman to prescribe 
for them, or give them medicine. With his profession, 
his fine gifts, and my fortune at his back, what a field 
he had in which to do good; what a place, and a name 
he might have made for himself. But no, after his 
night’s frolic he would sleep until noon the next day. 

“ In the meantime my own pursuits were of an en- 
tirely different nature; I always had a great love of 
study, read and thought much. I became deeply inter- 
ested in the old religions, and read all the books I could 
find upon the subject, but particularly Buddhism. I 
w^as reared a Methodist, but my father, who was in 
every sense a Christian, a thinker, and of broad views, in- 
fluenced my life greatly. I tried by every means in my 
power to lead my husband up with me. I plead with 
him to turn away from his follies, and seek a better 
way, a more manly and useful life. All round him 
were hundreds and thousands of the poor, hungry, sick, 
and dying, in this great City of New York, while he 
wasted his manhood, his talents, which he must give an 
account of, and lived only to gratify his appetites to eat, 
drink, and sleep. 

“ But my pleading was of no avail; indeed, he looked 
upon my talks, my reading, my spiritual philosophy, as 
the ravings of a deranged mind. But he never inter- 
fered with me so long as I supplied him with plenty of 
money. 

“ When I found what a hole he was making in my for- 
tune, and began to remonstrate with him, and draw in 
my purse strings, then my cup which was full before, 
began to flow over. Before I brought myself to stand 
the ordeal, I found, and had proof, that he was lavish- 
ing my money on an actress here in New York City. 
You must not think I did not suffer, I had not reached 
that calm spiritual place where I now tread. I loved 
my husband dearly, and had my woman’s pride, the 
pride of my father, the daughter of an old line of an- 
cestors, holding the most conspicuous places in the law. 


2^-8 


BEVERLY OSGOOD : 


the pulpit, and government of our country. All my 
sensibilities, my great love was outraged, humiliated, 
and dragged in the dust. I told him that while my 
home (we then lived in my father’s downtown house on 
Fifth Avenue, near Central Park, it is my old home), 
would be his always, and I would remain his friend, 
and his reform, to a natural, moral, manly life, would 
be the dearest wish of my heart. While I was still his 
wife, and would consider myself always his wife, as I 
did not believe in divorces, indeed the very idea was 
obnoxious to me, but so long as we both lived, we could 
never again have any relationship as man and wife. 
Henceforth we must live apart, while under the same 
roof. 

“ With a heart bruised, lacerated, and broken, I 
told him this, and plucked my ideal, and idol from my 
breast. The man I gave this hand to at the altar, my 
own father a witness to the promises he made, ‘ To 
love, honor, and cherish me, until death us do part.* 
His father officiated at the ceremony. Then began a 
system of persecution unheard of; he threatened me 
with divorce, and when he found I left that entirely to 
himself, he told all his friends I was insane. I will say 
here, he had many friends of his own kind, and a cer- 
tain standing with the men of his own profession, for 
he was gifted, and had a pleasing, fascinating way, and 
much subtilty, which afterwards developed an unscru- 
pulousness in carrying out any scheme that was for his 
own benefit and interest. 

“ He would every few days invite gentlemen to din- 
ner, and ask me to preside at the table as usual. I 
would answer him, I am perfectly willing to do any- 
thing to please you so long as it will not compromise 
my dignity, and your guests are gentlemen. Suffice it 
to say, all he brought were physicians. It never en- 
tered my head, or did I dream of what he was plotting, 
or I would have informed my own doctor, and had him 
to watch me. In the interim, a maid of mine, a com- 
panion from childhood, and also a dear and trusted 
friend died. She came to my father’s house to take 
charge of me when I was six years old, and she eighteen; 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 229 

she was an orphan girl. Her death, and the trouble 
with my husband threw me into great prostration, and 
a lingering fever which lasted nearly three months. 
My physician. Doctor L. attended me; even then it 
never occurred to me to inform him of my danger, and 
what my husband had repeatedly accused me of, or 
acquaint my attorney, who would have seen imme- 
diately into the whole scheme, and whither things were 
drifting. She paused a moment, and calmly raised her 
hand and smoothed back her hair. 

“ I will not go into detail here,” she continued, “ it is 
enough to say that as I was recovering from this illness, 
one night about one o’clock, my husband came to my 
room ; my maid, who had not been with me but a short 
while, slept in the room off mine. On retiring she had 
forgotten to lock my door, whether intentionally or not 
was never learned. My husband was dressed for the 
street; he had on a light overcoat, and carried his hat 
in his hand; in a few seconds there appeared two doc- 
tors, one of them whose name is prominent in nervous 
diseases; also a strange woman, a nurse from the pri- 
vate asylum where I was already doomed for. 

“ ‘ Why, Walter,’ I cried, rising upon my elbow in the 
bed, ‘ what is the matter? have you gone mad?’ ” 

“ ‘ Margaret, my love, my poor stricken wife, these 
kind friends have come to take you where you will have 
the best of care, and medical treatment, and dear, your 
poor grief-stricken husband hopes you will soon re- 
cover.’ ” 

“ ‘ My husband have you come like a thief in the night, 
armed with these ruffians to kidnap me? Have you 
fallen so low that you will resort to villainy like this? 
Oh, my God! is this the man, into whose keeping and 
protection my father gave me at the altar? this after all 
my kindness to him. I called to my maid, but no an- 
swer came. I was compelled to rise from my bed before 
the strange men. I made a rush to ring for my coach- 
man, and an old faithful butler; one of the bells in my 
room connected with their rooms in our stable, but I 
was caught, and held by my husband; the other men 
stood mutely by. He held me until the woman he 


230 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


brought with him dressed me. I was then bundled up 
in a cloak, carried down stairs, and out to the street, and 
placed in a covered carriage. 

“ As I was being carried out I observed two police 
officers standing in the vestibule. I knew then it was 
useless to say a word, or make a noise. I might scream^ 
and scream, those who would come to my rescue would 
be told by my husband I was insane. I saw everything 
had been prearranged. Doctor Deveraux was consid- 
ered very rich ; few knew that I married him a poor man, 
and that from the day he became my husband, until that 
moment, he had never earned a dollar, or contributed 
one cent to his own or my support, but squandered 
nearly half my fortune on himself and strange women, 
his mistresses. I was driven to a private insane asylum ; 
when we arrived there I was taken to one of the wards 
and given a small, meanly furnished room. When I 
found myself behind locks, keys, and the iron bars of a 
prison for the first time in years, I bent the knee in 
prayer. 

“ Then all my knowledge of Confucius, Zoroaster, and 
their philosophy, Brahmanism and Buddhism, brought 
no comfort, no hope, or help, or healing balm to the 
storm that surged, and raged in heart and soul. My 
idols were fallen, shattered; they were but images 
stuffed with human frailties. This was my Gethsem- 
ane, and my husband the Judas Iscariot, like my 
Master, Iscariot had to do his work before I entered 
Gethsemane, but unlike Him, I was not prepared to find 
Judas Iscariot my husband. Ah, my blessed Lord, this 
was the agony that wrung my soul, this was the bitter 
cup. At last the words of our own Bible came to me, 
the words of the New Testament of Jesus the Christ 
were whispered in my ear, ‘ Come unto me all ye that 
labor, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 
Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me, for I am meek 
and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your 
souls, for My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.* 
They are equal to any words the Master spoke, when we 
come to think of the time and condition of the human 
race, and the masses. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 23 1 


They came like the balm of Gilead to my crushed 
and bleeding heart, and with them came light, faith, 
comfort, and rest. When one of the attendants came 
and ordered me to bed, I told her I wished to be left 
alone to pray; I did not rise from my knees until the 
dawn stole over the hills, and lifted the darkness from 
the earth, and when I did, like Madame Guyon, prison 
locks, keys and bonds had no terror for me. Suffice it 
to say, I was left there two years; to say that my intel- 
ligence, heart, and soul didn’t rise up in wrath against 
the wrongs, abuses, cruelties, and indignities, heaped 
upon myself, and others as sane as myself, and the poor 
afflicted insane, would not be to speak true. Like the 
apostle Paul, they were the thorn in the flesh that I 
strove against daily, and like him I was given grace to 
bear it. 

“ I will not name the institution I was incarcerated 
in, but my spirit cries hourly, my God, when v/ilt thou 
break down the doors, and tear away the walls of these 
prisons, under the guise of institutions and asylums for 
the insane, and expose their nefarious work, and show 
the people what is carried on under the protection of 
the stars and stripes, the emblem of freedom. 

“ During my incarceration my husband tried by every 
means to get full control of my fortune, but father so 
arranged his will, that not a cent of the principal could 
he touch. In the law he was my husband, protector, 
and guardian, and he tried to have all my rents, interests 
on bonds and stocks, paid over to him, but he met with 
a foe in my attorney, who suspected foul play from the 
first. He had the State to suspend judgment until I was 
produced, brought before the courts and proven insane. 
Lucky for me I had such a friend in my attorney ; he 
fought the enemy in every attempt he made, until at 
last, he tried to bribe him, but he failed in this. Dr. 
Deveraux kept the name of the institution from him for 
nearly a year after, when my attorney threatened him, 
he must either go to prison or produce me in court, dead 
or alive. 

And it was through his untiring efforts that I was 
given my liberty. After my release from prison, I 


232 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


allowed Dr. Deveraux an income enough to keep him 
comfortable, but I never allowed him to enter the door 
of my house again. I also ordered my attorney to bring 
suit for a legal separation, so as to protect my person 
and my estate. I was not divorced, but God has a way 
of his own ; He is not deaf to those who trust Him ; He 
is the great Judge, from His tribunal is issued the only 
legal divorce, death. 

“Not long after my legal separation from my husband 
was granted me, I was sent for by Dr. Deveraux to go 
to his hotel, he was dying. He had been sick but three 
days. I took my maid and my butler, who had lived 
with us from the time I was a girl. I hurried as fast as 
my horses and carriage could carry me, my butler riding 
on the box with my coachman. When I reached the 
hotel, my butler and maid remained outside his room, 
while I went in. The doctor was lying with his face to 
the wall. I approached the bed noislessly and bent over 
him, and called ‘Walter,’ he turned to me, opened his 
eyes, but did not recognize me. I must have been in his 
mind, and causing him great distress, for he kept re- 
peating my name. I bent lower, and called, ‘Walter, 
dear Walter,’ again, which seemed to rouse him to con- 
sciousness. ‘ Oh, Margaret, is it you, at last,’ he said in 
a voice scarcely above a whisper. ‘ I knew if the mes- 
sage arrived in time you would come. Oh, my poor 
bruised and hurt wife ; you are still my wife. Oh, Mar- 
garet, forgive me ! forgive me ! Ah God, I was so blind ; 
I see all my folly now; I fell so low, I was the one who 
was mad, not you. I have broken your heart, and 
dragged my own noble father’s name in the dust and 
mire, and smeared it with disgrace. Thank God He 
spared me until you came. Forgive me Margaret, my 
wife, forgive me and pray for me.’ 

“ This was all he was permitted to say. I laid his 
head upon my bosom, and prayed that these words of 
his, his petition for pardon, might reach the throne of 
the Master before his spirit, and as I freely forgave this 
poor, erring, unfortunate man, the husband of my youth 
who had stifled his fine gifts, his usefulness, with the 
sinful pleasures of the world, He would show mercy also. 


DR, WHEN THR GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 


So he died in my arms, forgiven by me, and I hope by 
His God. 

“ I have gone over this part of my life, not in detail, 
but rather skimmed it, so as to show you that I have not 
reached my present plane without paying the price, with- 
out drinking of the bitter cup. Yes, before we can 
climb to the mountain tops, we must first enter in ; you 
recollect where the mother of Zebedee’s children, who 
were James and John, came to the Saviour, and said, 

‘ Lord when thou comest into thy kingdom wilt 
thou seat my sons, one on thy right, and the other on 
thy left.^ And He answered and said, ‘ If thou art will- 
ing to drink of the cup that I drink of, and be baptized 
with the baptism that I am baptized with.’ And she 
answered, ‘ We are willing.’ 

This is the difference between the Christian religion, 
and the Christians’ Christ, and the old religions, the 
Jewish, Brahmanism, Buddhism. It is an improve- 
ment on the others, for they leave you to struggle on 
up the mountain steps, naked and alone to reach what? 
The God, in yourself, or nothing. But with the seal of 
the Holy Spirit stamped upon the brow. His witness in 
our heart, there is no measuring the width, and breadth, 
the heights, and depths, and the possibilities of this 
glorious life. We never begin to grow until we enter 
in, or receive the gift of the Holy Spirit, the baptism of 
fire, unless we have passed through Gethsemane. The 
old man, and I will add the old woman, for I think there 
is a female, as well as a male, must die in us. * The ax 
must be laid to the root of the tree.’ 

“ When I came out from my two years’ imprisonment, 
I left behind me all former things which I used to think 
necessary to my dignity, social position, and happiness. 
Old habits, desires, vanities; while never a weak or 
frivilous woman, and I claim to have always been 
imbued with good sense, and the highest of principles, 
and standard of morals, yet I had great family pride, 
pride of wealth and position, and enjoyed the respect and 
admiration the world pays to these, knowing all the 
while it was not myself personally it honored, but the 
above things. Yet I own to my weakness, and being 


234 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


hampered by it and them. But they all fell away in the 
institute, one by one I shed them, like one does old worn 
garments, and customs that for years have weighted 
down body and soul, and I came out clothed anew, a 
free woman in Christ Jesus. 

“ When He said to the rich young man, ‘ Go sell all 
thou hast, and take up thy cross and follow Me,’ it was 
not because he was rich, so much, but he had his heart 
in his riches. When I came out of my two years’ prison, 
all my wealth, time, talents, body and soul was laid at 
His feet; it' was His henceforth. And since, oh, blessed 
Lord Christ, what freedom !” she rose from her chair, 
with her hands clasped upon her bosom, and began to 
walk up and down the floor. She looked like the Greek 
Iphigenia, the beautiful priestess in her white, floating 
drapery, a messenger of hidden truths, yet old as the 
New Testament. 

“ Freedom,” she reiterated, “ the bird on the wing 
with its throat full of song of a spring morning, is not 
more free; the eagle when soaring high up in the blue 
expanse, treads but the earth in comparison to the feel- 
ing of freedom of the body, and the soaring of the soul, 
when touched by the Holy Spirit. This body of ours 
is the temple of the Holy Ghost, and it cannot 
dwell in us if we are in sin, if we do not keep it clean, 
sweet, and pure. When in sin the body is dead, the 
soul is dead, the spirit which is life, cannot touch it, will 
not touch it. When we cease to sin and are repentant, 
the spirit comes and gives us life. ‘ I came that ye 
might have life, and have it more abundantly,’ ‘ I am the 
way, the truth, and the life.’ Oh wonderful words, 
'' The way, the truth, and the life,’ what more do we 
want. 

“ Oh, blessed Saviour, Lord, Thou art the way. Thou 
art the lamp to the feet, throwing out Thy light at every 
step, brighter, and brighter it grows, and when we have 
scaled the mountain peaks, on it shines, casting its efful- 
gence, and showing us other and higher mountain tops. 
But there are resting places, valleys green, and refresh- 
ing, where fountains of pure living water flow, where 
we can drink deeply, then mount again, onward, upward, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 235 


higher, and higher, brighter, and brighter shines the light. 
Oh, blessed Lord Christ, Thou art the inexhaustible ideal. 
I thank Thee that Thou did’st cut my shackles, loosed 
my chains, and made me free. Touched my soul with 
Thy living fire of life and sent me forth to gather in the 
lost sheep of the house of Israel ; gather them into the 
fold. Thy poor lost children. I have no children of 
my own, but Thou hast given me these children of men, 
the poor outcast children, who are famishing for a taste 
of Thy peace, rest, and joy.'' 

I rose from my seat, and crossed to the middle of the 
room where she stood with her head thrown back, her 
hands folded on her bosom, and knelt down upon one 
knee, “ Oh, my Lady," I cried, “ let me be your pupil; 
teach me this way, the way to this wonderful life. Lead 
me, so that some day I may be considered worthy to 
enter in. That I may have some of this peace, rest, and 
joy in my heart. That I may be given some of this 
spiritual power." 

“ Oh, my son, rise," she said, laying her hand on my 
head, and I felt something as if an electric spark of virtue 
and new life had gone all through me, “ take your seat ; 
don't mistake me, or rather don't be mistaken;" she 
seated herself on the same chair she occupied before. 
“This way is not a bed of roses ; like the rich young 
man in the gospel, it means to leave all, take up thy 
cross and follow Him. There are ups and downs, things 
to be striven for, things to battle against, self to anni- 
hilate. So long as we live in this world, so long as we 
are surrounded by thousands, and tens of thousands liv- 
ing in the flesh, slaves to the passions, the unseen 
powers, and principalities of darkness, which Paul the 
apostle speaks of, like him we must fight the good 
fight, and bring others unto salvation, so that they also 
may enter into this peace, rest, and power; we must 
keep Christ's commands, * To watch and pray, lest ye 
fall into temptation, to watch ye alway.' My dear son, 
I call you son, I am not old enough in years to be your 
mother, but let me act that part, I like it better than 
sister. Our blessed Lord created men and women with 
sense, and reasoning power, and we must use it in this 


236 BEVERLY OSGOOt) J 

case ; good common sense, lest we fall into error. Hap-* 
piness lies in emplopng onr time, talents, and money, it 
isn’t necessary to have money to do good, but we must 
use all our gifts judiciously, helping humanity, by lifting 
it up and teaching it to love the good, the beautiful, and 
the true, and if they love these they will love the very 
embodiment of these three Christ Jesus. 

“You are a student of humanity. The greatest study 
of all studies and sciences is man : and how to benefit 
the human race. You are a reformer in the same direc- 
tion that I myself am following in, you are but a novice 
as yet, ‘ Ask, and you shall receive. Seek, and you shall 
find. Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.’ If you 
do not seek, you will not find, go on seeking, watching 
and praying, climbing higher, and higher, and some day 
you will be called upon, and the bitter cup will be 
offered to you, then if you are able and willing to say, 
‘ Father, not my will, but thine be done,’ you will have 
conquered the old man, will have slayed him, you will 
receive the baptism of fire, the baptism of the Holy 
Spirit, then you will be able to cross the threshold, and 
fear not its guardian, who stands watch with flaming 
wings and sword. Then and not until then, will you 
get a taste of that spiritual heaven our Lord taught us 
of while here on earth.” 

“ Oh, my Lady,” she looked at me and smiled, “ per- 
mit me Madame Deveraux, to address you as my Lady 
when we are alone. My Lady is the name I gave you, 
before I learned your real name.” She smiled upon me 
again, graciously. “ While you believe that Christ was 
the King of Kings, and the Lord of Lords, and the 
Saviour of men, I should judge from those beautiful 
Christian truths you have just now spoken, that you 
have not confined yourself to any particular creed." 

“ Only so far as Christ’s teachings, and being saved 
through Him. I believe in attending some church, 
whatever one suits our own individual needs best, and 
helping to support it for they all do good. What would 
this city, or any other large city or town be without 
churches; why people would sink into the lowest state 
of debauchery and crime, we would have a reign of ter- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 237 


ror, and soon the snn would set in darkness upon the 
earth so far as man was concerned. But so far as the 
great principles of Christianity, men might as well try 
to take the wisdom of the Godhead, and hold it in the 
hollow of their hand, as to try to narrow the wonderful 
life, and beautiful teachings of Christ to a creed.'* 

“ Oh, my Lady, what you say is my belief, it’s the 
creeds, which make all the trouble in the world. If all 
men were brothers in Christ, as Christ taught the 
brotherhood of men, and He Himself their elder brother. 
If men would seek after the Christ heart, and they were 
all united in His great principles, oh, what a revolution, 
what a rooting out of selfishness, what an uplifting of 
the human race, we would then have Christ’s kingdom 
on earth. No one would be rich, and no one poor, all 
men would be of one mind in Christ ; and no evil could 
withstand their power. It is ecclesiasticism, and doc- 
trinaires, not meaningly, have rather retarded than 
furthered the coming of Christ's kingdom on earth. But 
there is hope that in the future we will have more of 
Christian primitive simplicity with the advanced under- 
standing of its high spirituality. As you just now said, 
Christ is the lamp to our feet, the inexhaustible ideal.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

OMPHALE. 

With this the door bell rang, and in a few seconds 
Mrs. Marstan with Cyrus Alvin was ushered in. My 
Lady rose and received him with great warmth, an ex- 
pression of delight overspread her face as she held out 
hei hand to him and said, “ 1 did not know you were in 
New York, but Philadelphia is only a few hours' ride 
from it, and one can easily run up. I am so pleased to 


23 ^ 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


see you, so pleased to know that you thought enough of 
us to stop over and come out with Katherine.” 

“ Could I do otherwise? Do you think Paul, the 
apostle, would have passed through Philippi, without 
stopping at the house of Lydia, who ministered unto 
him in her own home when he first came as a stranger 
to her city. I think the sweetest of all friendship and 
love, is the friendship and love of the children of the 
spirit,” and he bowed graciously before her as he took 
her hand. 

“ Let me introduce you Dr. Alvin, to my young friend 
Mr. Osgood, he is one of us,” she said turning to me. 

The deep bright gray eyes flashed a glance into mine, 
then a smile lighted up his face as our hands clasped, 
and he exclaimed in a low voice : 

“ Beverly, I am really glad to see you. How long 
have you been in New York?” 

“ Since July,” I answered, “ and I am as pleased to see 
you as my Lady. It is several years since I had the 
pleasure of hearing your voice.” 

“ Then you and Mr. Osgood are old acquaint- 
ances! how nice,” said my Lady. 

“ Oh, I take the credit of first discovering Beverly 
Osgood. About ten years ago he came to hear m.e 
preach every Sunday for about a year, when I left 
the church to go out as an evangelist. Like a good 
many other boys of his guild, he came out of curiosity, 
but in the weeks that went by we had many short talks, 
and every time like the rich young man in the gospel, he 
went away sorrowful indeed, for at that time he was 
heir to much wealth. But he has since proved that my 
teaching was not lost on him. I think the same of the 
young man in the gospel, although there is no more 
mention made of him in the scriptures, yet I cannot but 
believe, when he returned to his vast possessions, and 
in the quiet of his Oriental palace, the Saviour’s words 
must have troubled him, must have sunk deep into his 
heart, and he came to understand that his wealth was 
not his; he was but simply the steward of his Master, 
and he must use it for his Master’s glory. But my friend 
Beverly has more of a penchant for social reform and 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 239 

politics, he takes to them like a duck does to water. 
Well he has a great wide field to work in.” 

Cyrus Alvin had just finished a four weeks’ revival, in 
one of the large churches in Philadelphia, where he had 
stirred the old Quaker city to it’s foundation with his 
preaching and impassioned eloquence. He had struck 
their conservatism, and flabby apathy into something 
like life, and the people packed the church nightly. 
There were many of the ministers of the rich and fash- 
ionable churches, and their followers who resented his 
teaching, and termed him a fanatic. But the great 
masses, ever hungry, ever thirsting for the food to make 
their burdens easier to bear, and as was said of our 
Lord, “ The common people heard him gladly.” And 
like Christ whom he preached and followed closer than 
any man I ever knew, he was a man of multitudes. 

He was from my own city, but a Southerner by birth 
and education. As he stated, I heard him preach ten 
years before, when the pastor of a large, and flourishing 
Methodist church, which he resigned to go out as an 
evangelist. I was but a boy then, twenty years old, and 
I owed him a great deal. He settled forever many 
doubts and questions which disturbed my mind, and also 
stirred up others which led me to seek and to find, to 
knock, and to ask. As I have made him a leading 
character in another as yet unpublished work, I will 
give but a slight sketch of him here. I had not seen 
him for nearly four years; the wear and tear of travel, 
and constant preaching, had seared a face, pale, refined, 
and of great intellectual beauty, and made dark lines 
under the deepset gray eyes, which glowed and burned 
with the fire of the enthusiast. Although but a few 
years over forty, his dark curling brown hair was 
streaked with gray, and one thin lock lay upon a fore- 
head, ideal. His straight slight figure had grown sparer, 
but it had lost none of it’s sinewy grace, and the court- 
esy and delicacy of manner, which he bore to the oppo- 
site sex, and which made him a favorite, and loved by 
all woman kind. 

Mrs. Marstan wore the same dress as the first night I 
met her at the Tombs. After she had divested herself 


240 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


of her wraps, she came over to where we were standirig, 
her face all puckered into smiles, so that her eyes looked 
like two bright specks of blue, shining out from the lay- 
ers of flesh seams, which overshadowed them. “ I am 
rejoiced to see you,” she said, reaching out her hand to 
me, and her whole attitude bespoke that she thought me 
one snatched from the world of sin, and Madame Dev- 
eraux, the victor of the prize, for she fairly beamed 
upon myself and Cyrus Alvin, as she looked from one to 
the other. 

“ It is so good to know that you and Dr. Alvin are old 
friends, and met here at Madame’s house; just think of 
it. Fm so sorry he is not going to stay in New York, 
but he is to come back in the spring, then we will have 
some awakening of the dead in the Sodom by the sea.” 

After we had been seated a few moments in pleasant 
chat, Madame Deveraux rose and left the room. 

“ Then your home, Mr. Osgood, is not in New York, 
but West; the same place where Dr. Alvin is from. Do 
you live in a village or city?” asked Katherine. 

“ My home is in a large city,” I answered. 

“ Is it as wicked as New York City?” she queried in- 
nocently. 

“ Well, according to the population, it has it’s share 
of wickedness and goodness also. We have not such a 
mixture of people ; there is not so much crowding, nor 
have we so much refined vice.” 

“ Ah, I understand,” she replied, shaking her head 
thoughtfully, and her face wore no puckers. 

“ We have a number of very good people in New York 
City, very charitable, and clever people.” 

“ A city of over a million population, the metropolis 
of the great Republic of America, the center of im- 
mense wealth should be also the center of art, literature, 
science, religion and culture in general,” I responded. 
Here the maid who had opened the door for me made 
her appearance, and said : 

“ Madame Deveraux requested the gentlemen and 
Mrs. Marstan to step into the dining-room.” 

Cyrus Alvin and myself followed after Mrs. Marstan 
and the maid to a large, spacious room at the end of the 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 24I 


hall. It was the same shape as the library which we 
had just left, only it had a wide bay window at the end 
which looked West, breaking the squareness, and giving 
length to the room. The bay window had three large 
windows which reached from floor to ceiling, and opened 
out upon a porch. They were draped in white muslin 
curtains, making a delicate contrast to the walls of 
brownish gray mixed with golden hues. A large old- 
fashioned mahogany sideboard, with a white marble 
top, a mirror, and shelves filled with pieces of solid sil- 
ver, stood in a wide space of wall between the mantel- 
piece and bay window. The mantelpiece was also ma- 
hogany, built high with mirror and shelves, strewn 
with bits of rare china, and other ornaments. A large 
bronze clock, mounted by tall bronze figures, gave out a 
deep, steady beat of bell -like tones. The floor was of dark 
polished wood, with rich, soft rugs laid here and there, 
and in the center stood a massive dining-table, spread 
with a cloth of white linen damask, and set with dishes 
of delicate French china. 

While the maid was busy placing the viands on the 
table, and Cyrus Alvin was speaking with Mrs. Marstan, 
I walked over to one of the windows which was open, 
and stepped out upon a wide circular porch which over- 
looked a hill and the Hudson. 

The hill sloped down to the bank of the river, and 
was studded with magnificent oaks, maples, and great 
beeches, and through the interstices of their branches 
shone its blue ripplirg water, its many lights dotting the 
shore like fairy lamps rising out of its shadowy surface. 
Here and there under the trees was a yacht, anchored 
in full sail, looking like some white- winged angel, sent to 
keep watch over the steamers, schooners, sloops, and 
other craft which pass and repass in the night. To 
my left was the city spread out as it were at my feet, 
the great Babylon, with its tall flat-roofed houses, its 
thousands of lighted windows, and tens of thousands of 
flickering electric flames, and its harsh noises coming 
softened by distances to the ear. Then the nearer and 
more musical sounds of nature, the soft murmur of the 
trees as the cool, perfumed winds stirred their leaves, to 


242 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


sing sweet lullabys. The low swish and swash of the 
river, as a silent white sail stole phantom-like over its 
waves, leaving its dips and ripples in its swells. All this 
crowned by the sweep of the purple gemmed sky over- 
head. 

“ Oh, the beautiful deep fathomless heavens,’’ said a 
voice at my side, it was my Lady’s who had slipped out 
unobserved after me, “ Oh, mysterious night, how I 
love you.” 

“ Do you love the night? I do.” 

“ Do I love the nights?” she repeated, when a girl, 
I almost hated myself for being one, because I was de- 
barred from enjoying the night in my own way. When 
I became of age, eighteen, I was launched into society, 
I must go to balls and parties, and return them, this is 
the social code. I could be up all night, and every 
night, in that prescribed way. But to have freedom, to 
enjoy my thoughts to prowl about and see things, see 
its beauty, its life, to study the stars and planets, to 
learn its lessons, its mysteries, and listen to its thou- 
sands of different voices, for the night has its own 
peculiar life. How I longed for a taste of this life, why 
I was almost starved, my spirit fretted and chafed under 
the restraint. But blessed freedom, how I love and en- 
joy every moment of my liberty now. You don’t know 
the delightful hours, and half hours, I have alone here 
on this porch, before I set out for my night rambles. I 
come out here in the dusk, and have an hour or so of 
quiet contemplation and rest, while my eyes, and my 
ears, and heart are fed. Then I go forth to war with 
satan, sin, and darkness,” and my Lady laughed heartily. 

“ Glory,” cried Cyrus Alvin, who had come out un- 
perceived, and stood to the right of my Lady, his slight 
straight figure, his small beautifully shaped head, his 
pale face standing out in the violet twilight of the 
night. “Glory!” he cried again, his eyes flashing like 
stars of electric flame in the darkness, “ everything 
grand and beautiful in nature is God’s gift to man.” 

“ Come, you must both be hungry,” said my Lady, 
and we followed her into the dining-room. She assigned 
Cyrus Alvin to a seat at the head of the table, and my- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 243 


self to one to his right, then the maid came in telling 
her the water was boiling for the tea. My Lady went 
into a pantry, in a few moments she returned carrying 
a silver teapot in her hand. “ I always make the tea 
myself, it’s a whim of mine,” she said smiling, and tak- 
ing a seat opposite to me between Katherine and Cyrus 
Alvin. “ Katherine knows how fond I am of a good 
cup of tea; I don’t mean to hint that Minnette can’t 
make good tea,” and she gave Minnette, who was pass- 
ing slices of lovely looking homemade white bread, a 
winsome smile. We had also cold sliced tongue, dishes 
of large yellow peaches, which I knew were home- 
brewed before Madame informed us that they were put 
up in glass jars by her cook, who had been in her serv- 
ice nearly twelve years. There was two kinds of cake, 
crackers, thin as wafers, and charlotte russe, with fruit 
and cream. 

And dear reader, such a cup of tea, flavored with loaf 
sugar and yellow cream, was never my lot to drink be- 
fore; it looked like amber as it came out of the long sil- 
ver spout, and it was a drink fit for the gods. As I 
have a penchant for tea and coffee I can testify to it, 
and Cyrus Alvin who was an ascetic, loved a cup of tea, 
and no Greek in the old classic days, loved the fruits of 
the trees better than he, so he paid Madame delicate 
compliments on her tea and luscious peaches. During 
the repast we had a delightful chat ; my Lady asked me 
if I had ever heard Dr. Parkhurst preach. 

“ On my last visit to the city four years before,” I re- 
plied. 

“ Come to think of it he has been in Europe all sum- 
mer, and has not returned yet.” 

“ What do you think of his work with the Lexow 
Committee exposing all this crime. Has he done any 
good?” I asked, more to hear her opinion than to give 
my own. 

“ In a sense, yes, and in a sense, no. Dr. Parkhurst 
meant well, and his efforts in what he did are commend- 
able. The Lexow Committee was a good thing, it ex- 
posed one of the most inhuman conditions of corruption, 
tyranny, and extortion men could be guilty of. Think 


244 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


of a great city like New York calling itself Christian, at 
least it has all the advantages of Christian civilization, 
of its teaching, its free schools, its churches, and all 
thrown open to whoever may wish to avail themselves 
of their benefit. Think of its citizens sitting down, and 
leaving its government and control to such men as were 
brought before the Lexow board. But it’s one thing to 
expose, and another to reform. Had the Lexow Com- 
mittee followed up the law breakers, and punished them 
severely, and kept its system going with untiring vigi- 
lance, had they made just laws, laws that would reach 
men as well as women, and not thrown the poor out- 
casts entirely into the hands of the police, who revenge 
themselves upon these creatures because they are pro- 
hibited now from extorting money as formerly, had the 
Lexow Committee done this, it would have done some 
good, but when did ever a body of men make just laws 
for women? 

“ It’s all well enough for them while the men hug, and 
lavish money and luxuries on their pampered darlings, 
and of course we know many of these pampered dar- 
lings are lost to all principle, versed in cunning, deceit, 
and subtle as cats; that they can cope with their lovers 
in everything; that they are apt pupils, and by these 
accomplishments they hold them where more honest 
women couldn’t. These women remain in this condi- 
tion and go on down, down, and grow harder and 
harder in crime, they are never reached, never con- 
verted, they pile up money while the men who lavished 
it on them have gone down to the slums, such men as 
you meet on Seventh Avenue.” 

“ It is the women who drink and dissipate, who have 
feelings of remorse and shame,” said Mrs. Marstan, 
“ they drink to drown their troubles, and there is more 
chance of reforming them. 

“ Katherine is no admirer of Dr. Parkhurst,” said my 
Lady. “ I think him a unique figure, something of a 
Carlyle, he has his niche in the world, a man of strong 
characteristics, trying to scale the mountain peaks. In 
a sense, a worldling like nearly all our New York 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 245 

preachers; I do not mean by that, that he is not of the 
highest morals and of impeachable life.” 

“ It is only the men and Vv^omen who preach Christ 
and live Christ, can bring sinners to repentance; and 
especially poor lost women,” said Cyrus Alvin laying 
down the dish in which he had just finished disposing 
of his peaches. “ I claim a little more experience with 
that class and the masses in general, than Madame Dev- 
eraux, and Mrs. Marstan in my twenty years of min- 
istry. To make laws for the prevention of vice is all 
well enough, but it never cured vice. There is a law of 
death for the murderer, but it does not prevent men, and 
sometimes women from committing murder. There is 
a law against stealing, but the thief steals whenever he 
or she finds a chance. And we see theft, perjury, 
murder, are everyday occurrences, and the constant 
breaking of the ten commandments is not stopped by 
law, but by conversion, grace, and the purifying of the 
heart. I admire Dr. Parkhurst greatly; he is a man of 
strong individual character, and intellectually the peer 
of many of his brothers, and he is to be honored tor the 
reform he has tried to make in the face of so much op- 
position. But he is like many more in the ministry, he 
is trying to scale the mountain summits with a crooked 
back, lame and sore feet, and a staff in his hand, and a 
halter around his neck. 

“ When, if he would shake off the halter, with head 
erect, shoulders thrown back, hands and feet free 
as the air, he could ascend with bounds, carrying mul- 
titudes with him. The reason of this halt and stagger- 
ingness is that they hold out the right hand to God, and 
the left hand to the world, this quenches the Holy 
Spirit, and stays the power of the church to draw the 
hearts of the people to God. God’s church must be 
aggressive, the moment it compromises with the world, 
the flesh, and the devil, it loses its missibn, and mate- 
rialism becomes dominant, and like a fungus growth 
stifles the spiritual, and the church becomes lame and 
crippled. This is the reason it does so little in arrest- 
ing the awful sin broadcast in the world. The Holy 
Spirit which proceedeth from the Father, is in a sense 


246 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


Christ the Lord, for He said, ‘ If I do not go away, the 
comforter will not come/ The God of the Universe 
incarnated in His man’s body, which had to die that He 
might rise again and show ns the resurrection, and 
ascend to His Father that He might come in spirit. ‘ I 
am the Life,’ He said, ‘ without Me ye can do nothing.’ 
The Holy Spirit is the life of the church, the life of the 
soul, it will not dwell in a carnal mind, neither does the 
dove ever light on a dead carcass. 

“ Men like Parkhurst, with their great ability and re- 
sources for good, go on beating at the stone walls of 
mens’ hearts, hammering away at iron black and cold, 
when we know the only way to make it malleable is to 
heat it red-hot, and that there is no process to take the 
dross from metals, but by the furnace fire. They call 
me a fanatic, mad, a fit subject for a lunatic asylum be- 
cause I preach ‘ the second blessing,’ a second work of 
grace done in the soul, the baptism of fire, and that men 
and women can live in this life without sin, that inbred 
sin can be burnt out of them, that peace, rest, joy, and 
happiness can be our portion here. We talk of mystery 
aside from the mystery of life, the greatest mystery to 
me is sin, sin is body sickness, soul sickness, leprosy, 
ugliness, paralysis, death.” He raised his thin, white 
nervous hand to his head, and brushed back the stray 
curls from his forehead. He was pale almost to white- 
ness, and I could liken his face to nothing but a fine cut 
cameo, thrown out against the dark-brown gray of the 
wall, yet with its fineness it had lines of strength and 
character. But the deep-set, restless, burning eyes 
flashed here and there, and they seemed to me even in 
that room to be soul hunting; for the Master certainly 
had made Cyrus Alvin a fisher of men. 

Madame Deveraux sat like one entranced, and her 
beautiful eyes which never left his face, caught some of 
the fire and glow of his, and her soul seemed to leap out 
and up, and clasp this man's and ascend with him. 
Mrs. Marstan’s face was all puckers, and her eyes, well 
I could see nothing but two little round holes, that shot 
out thread-like beams of dancing blue flame, and every 
second or so while Cyrus spoke, she would lay one hand 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITV IS AWAKE. 24/ 


in the other, look at me, shake her head, and murmur, 
“ Bless the Lord.’* 

“ Yes, speaking of these poor women,” he continued, 
turning in his chair, “ reminds me of a wonderful con- 
version I had when holding a series of meetings in 
San Francisco, California. It was one evening I had 
been preaching every day and night for two weeks, the 
church was densely crowded; I had observed during 
the time, a tall, handsome woman of thirty-five years, or 
along there, elegantly dressed, and showing in her style 
and air that she was a woman of the world, a courtesan. 
She came every evening and took a seat near the altar. 
On this night, I had preached a good sermon, I felt the 
Holy Spirit descending in great power and doing its 
work. I had just finished my sermon when I saw this 
woman rise, she took off her hat, and unfastened a 
heavy gold chain from about her neck, also a gold 
watch, her fingers were loaded with diamond rings, she 
pulled them off and brought them all up to where I was 
standing, and flung them at my feet, saying, ‘ Sell them, 
and give the money to the poor,’ she then knelt down 
and began to weep and sob ; it was fully a quarter of an 
hour before we could soothe her. After she became 
quiet, some lady workers in the church with myself, 
saw her to her carriage, in which she drove to the 
meetings every evening. Before she left, she asked me 
when and where she could have a talk with me. I told 
her to come in the morning about half an hour before 
the service began, which she did. I found her an in- 
telligent businesslike woman, and from her conversa- 
tion I learned she was rich, had made money in mining 
stocks. She was very repentant, and left me to go back 
to her large and elegant house, which she afterwards 
gave up for a home for repentant women of her own 
class. Before I left San Francisco I called upon her, 
and as I took my leave she placed in my hand a check 
for a thousand dollars, to be used for the same purpose 
she was then making her house ready for; when I 
reached my own city, I turned the check over to the 
mission board. Her conversion created a great ex- 
citement in the press, and among the men in general, 


548 


iBEVEkLV OSGOOt); 


for she was well-known among the fast set, the demi- 
monde of the gay metropolis of the coast, as she was 
rich, handsome, intelligent, and shrewd. Many said it 
would not be six months before ‘ Omphale,’ the name 
she went by, but her real name was Charlotte Dongal, 
would buy her another establishment and be back again 
in the old life. But it is seven years since then, and 
Omphale is still climbing the ladder, higher and higher, 
she is a tireless worker, and has rescued hundreds of 
her sisters, from the wine and card tables, the midnight 
revels, then the streets, then prison and death; few 
grow rich like Omphale, few have her sense and brain. 
Glory,” he shouted as we rose from the table, and we 
went back to the .sitting-room, where my Lady seated 
herself at the piano, and played several fine classical 
pieces. I found her a most accomplished musician, 
after singing one or two arias from the different operas, 
she sang the lovely hymn, “ I need thee. Oh, I need thee 
every hour,” Katherine with a splendid contralto, join- 
ing in, also Cyrus Alvin, who had a fine tenor voice ; it 
was like a lute, and people said he hypnotized sinners 
with it. When she finished, I made the request to play 
something on her violin, which I saw lying on the piano. 
Mrs. Marstan clapped her hands, gave a tilt to the top 
knob of her hair, pushed the straggling hairs from her 
forehead, looked at me with such an expression on her 
face. Naturally in repose it was broad, smooth, fresh, 
and fair, but it was now all gathered up until the flesh 
lay in seams, covering her eyes, which looked like two 
blue beads emitting electric sparks of light, as Madame 
took up her violin and drew the bow across the strings 
by way of tuning it up a little. Then began one of 
those Italian phantasies which Ole Bull might have exe- 
cuted in his best days. 

“ Oh, fair Italy, land of poetry and song, have you, 
too, become dumb with the dumbness of our century? 
Has the lifeblood of your people run cold, dried in their 
veins? Have your lyres, been thrown aside, and the 
strings of your lutes and harps been broken, and all that 
is sweetest, dearest, and loveliest to the children of 
men, the songs and outpourings of the heart, silenced 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 249 

by the cold, pitiless modernism and materialism, the 
worship of the golden calf? But my Lady played on, 
and the sweet melody and pathos at times pierced my 
heart, then again lifted me up to regions of bliss where 
the saints dwell. When she finished, she sang again the 
hymn with the violin accompaniment, “ I need thee, oh, 
I need thee every hour.” 

A little later I took my departure. Mrs. Marstan was 
to remain all night, also Cyrus Alvin, who was to leave in 
the morning for the West. My Lady invited me to call 
often, to come any night I wished to go with herself and 
Katherine to the slums, and as it was quite a distance 
to the park, to call at the home downtown, and she 
would meet me there, and Mrs. Marstan would be there 
to receive me in her private parlor. I took the hand she 
held out to me at parting, and held it to my lips. “ Oh, 
my Lady,” I said, “let me henceforth be your pupil, 
your follower, let me help you in your good work.” So 
I took leave of these three rare characters, as one star 
differeth from another in brightness, so did these three, 
but they were equally interesting. 

But Madame Deveraux impressed me the most, she 
being a woman, so wonderful, and yet so essentially 
womanly, with all the softness, tenderness, and delicacy 
of the true woman. But after that came the priestess, 
the goddess, the intellect, character, strength, and spirit- 
uality. Just imagine you see the Venus of Milo who 
was the Greek embodiment of the highest attributes of 
intellectual womanhood. The majesty of form stripped 
of all sensuality, intellect stamping every feature, then 
add to this a soul, touched by the Holy Spirit, her whole 
body aglow with living life, eternal, and you have Mar- 
garet Deveraux. 


BOOK IIL 


CHAPTER I. 

AND I WHISPER BACK, ‘‘ HE THAT BELIEVETH ON Me’ 
THE WORKS THAT I DO SHALL HE DO ALSO.” 

The first of September had arrived and with it came 
cool salt breezes, up from the wide ocean, wafting over 
the great city, and men and women, walked with quicker 
and more buoyant steps. The presidential campaign 
raged fierce and hot, all over the land, but more espe- 
cially in the East, and more dominantly in New York 
City. Never since the civil war, was there such intense 
bitterness felt between political opponents. Before the 
war it was the South, fighting for her slaves, which were 
her labor, therefore her capital. Labor is capital. Now 
it is a few men, in New York City, fighting behind for- 
tifications of gold dollars, gold interest bearing bonds, 
gold bonded mortgages. The war, with the South, was 
to free a million and over of negro slaves, the fight now 
is for gold, gold, gold, to put the yoke around men’s 
necks, and to lay heavier burdens upon nearly fifty mil- 
lion of white serfs, created and brought into bondage, 
since the emancipation of the negro. 

And the man going out of the president’s chair, sang 
the golden song, and fought the golden fight, for four 
years, and the man coming in (for McKinley was sure to 
be President), for seventeen years in Congress sang 
silver’s song, but the golden cup was offered him, and 
he too weak to resist quaffed the fluid, and drank to its 
dregs, and he cried, gold, gold, gold, give me the coveted 
prize, and I will divorce gold’s wife, silver, debase her, 
raise the brazen bull higher, ard set up his calf to wor- 
ship. And the people cried, give us bread, and work, 
give us back the days of plenty, days before the civil 

(250] 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 2$ I 

war, when every American workman was a freeman, and 
the days after the civil war, when money was plenty, ard 
onr silver dollar, stood side by side with the gold. So 
the campaign raged. 

1 had divined for some time that Nina had been think- 
ing much, of her adopted mother, and brother, and of 
making herself known to them but how and in what 
way troubled her greatly, and caused her to put the 
matter off from day to day. This urged me to set 
about making arrangements for the long delayed meet- 
ing between herself, and Gene, sooner than I had 
planned to. I called on Bertram, and during our con- 
versation I informed him of my intention to take Gene 
with me the following evening to her house. That I 
felt it my duty not only to relieve my own conscience, 
but the suffering of her mother, and her brother ; which 
I was sure Nina herself desired it, but had put it off so 
long, she did not know how to go about to undo the step 
she had taken of hiding herself, for years, from her only 
relatives, and the only two beings who had the mother, 
and the brother love for her. 

At the first mention of bringing Nina and Gene to- 
gether, Bertram's face darkened, and he seemed much 
disturbed. He bent his head, and thought a moment, a 
habit with him, when touched, or crossed in what in any 
way concerned him personally. Then he turned to me 
and said, “ You’re right Beverly, they should know that 
you have found her, have seen her, and spoken with 
her.” Then after a pause, he added, “ It would not be 
likely after what has happened, she would now care to 
marry this Gene.” 

“ I am of your opinion, all is changed with her now.” 

I had written to Gene, to meet me at the Eighty-first 
Street station, for the purpose of paying a visit to the 
house of a friend of mine, from whom we might glean 
some information as to the one we were in search of. I 
could say no more at present, but it was necessary for 
him to accompany me. The next evening he was at the 
station promptly at the appointed time. “ Now my dear 
fellow,” I said, after our greeting, “ you’re to ask no 
questions, but follow me, I am to be pilot, to-night.” I 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


552 

saw that he gave an involuntary start, and sort of shiver 
ran over his whole frame. 

“ What is it ?*’ he asked, his cheek paling, and catching 
hold of my hand, “ have you any news of her, have you 
seen her ?” 

“ My dear Gene, I request you not to ask questions, 
not to betray yourself in any way, but to listen atten- 
tively to what you hear.'' I said this so as to relieve his 
mind, of any expectation he might have of meeting 
Nina, and to turn his thoughts in another channel. 
Bertram had promised me he would not make his usual 
visit, on this evening, and I would be sure to find her at 
home, whether she would see me or not he could not 
say, as she reserved these off evenings for herself, but 
to go a little early, and try. She had been home but a 
few days from Long Branch, and was feeling somewhat 
tired after her journey. 

We walked in silence until we reached Nina's resi- 
dence. “ Stop Mr. Osgood," said Gene, trembling, as I 
put my foot on the lower stone step, to ascend. All the 
color had left his face, he was as white as death, and his 
lips were blue, “ I will go no farther until you tell me 
what kind of a house this is. I know it’s grand looking, 
and this an aristocratic swell neighborhood, but that 
cuts no figure, in New York City, as regards respecta- 
bility, I am better acquainted with this city, than you 
Mr. Osgood, and I don't care to have you fooled." 

“ My dear fellow this is a private house. I am ac- 
quainted with its mistress, she is of an old aristocratic 
family, a most respectable woman. She can help us 
more than any other person in the world, to find Nina. 
Come trust me Gene, I can do nothing if you don’t have 
confidence in me." 

“ I have implicit faith in your honor, as a man, and a 
gentleman, but I don’t want you to fall into a trap, Mr. 
Osgood. New York City is full of scheming, designing 
men, and women, that will do anything for money.” 

“Gene,myboy, I am not so green, trust, and follow me." 

“ All right Mr. Osgood, the woman can do us no 
harm, unless she plots to swindle you, besides I can 
fight for you, and myself too." 


DR, When the great city is awake. 253 


I looked at Gene, and laughed. “ Dear, old fellow, 
you amuse me you think because my hands are small, 
and white, that they can’t give a blow, why they have 
the grip of iron, and the hardness and strength of steel, 
besides I know just where to strike.'’ 

Samson, the black butler, answered my ring. “Yes 
sah,” his mistress was at home. “Walk in sah, Ma- 
dame da Countess is at dinna, now.” He smiled upon 
me as he took my hat and cane, and eyes Gene keenly 
as he performed similar services for him. I then gave 
him my card, he looked towards Gene for his, but 
thinking of myself, I said, mine will answer for both. 
Gene took the hint, and said nothing, he then showed us 
into the drawing-room, and left us. 

A bronze lamp of exquisite design and workmanship, 
burned low on the center table, in the library, leaving 
the long salon in a sort of dim twilight. Gene, seated 
himself, in a corner near one of the windows. He had 
not spoken since we entered the house, it seemed to me 
as if he were struck speechless, and out of all the shim- 
mer and sheen of silken hangings, rich brocades, soft 
stuffs, laces like spider webs, draping the windows. 
Marble statuary, paintings, art, color, and perfumes, the 
dim flame of the lamp, under its silken shade, throwing 
over all a pinkish hue. Yes, out of his corner, out of 
the deep shadow, paramount to all rose the white face of 
Gene, stern, rigid, and looking as if hewn out of stone. 

I don’t know how long we sat, but neither spoke, and 
I myself, was laboring under strong emotion. It might 
have been ten minutes, and it might have been twent}-, 
when I thought I heard a step, and the faint rustle of a 
woman’s drapery. I don’t think Gene heard anything, but 
the rattle of the passing vehicles, upon the stone-paved 
streets, and the echoes of the far away roar, and noise of 
the city. I rose and slipped back to the lower end cor- 
ner, and threw myself into an armchair, which was par- 
tially hid behind the silken portiere of the folding door, 
which separated the library from the grand salon; it was 
a real hiding place, no ray of light reached it. I had 
no sooner seated myself, than Nina’s tall figure en- 
tered She wore a simple trailing house dress, of sil- 


254 


BEVERLY OSGOOD': 


very-gray serge, with touches of pink ribbon here and 
there, and belted in at the waist, with a pink ribbon 
sash. The coils of her luxuriant dark hair, were fast- 
ened high at the back of her head, by a comb of pearls. 
She wore no other ornaments, save the flashing, gleam- 
ing g^ms, which weighted her fingers. She stood a 
moment on the threshold of the door, the brighter light 
from the gas-jet, in the hall, making the room appear 
darker, and its objects less distinct. Then she advanced 
a step or two, catching but the outlines of a man’s figure, 
sitting in the corner, and thinking it was myself, she 
started to cross the floor, when Gene jumped to his feet. 

I heard a low hoarse gurgle in his throat, then a cry, 
“Nina ” holding out his arms, then they fell powerless 
at his side. 

He was so overcome, stricken dumb, as it were, by 
the luxury, elegance, mingled with refinement, of her 
surroundings, the wonderful enhancement of her 
beauty, which had bloomed from the young girl, like a 
rosebud, when unfolding its leaves to the sun, comes 
forth in all its radiance of color, and perfume. Indeed 
he never dreamed of finding her thus. Then the joy, 
the delight, that she stood before him, real living and 
in the flesh. He held out his arms to her again, but a 
feeling of doubt as to what she was, as to the relation- 
ship existing between her and Roscoe Delano, cut him 
to the heart’s quick and pierced his very soul; with his 
arms dropping weak and limp at his side, he stepped 
back a few paces from her. 

She fell upon her knees on the floor, at his feet, with 
a low stifled cry. “ Gene, dear Gene, have you come to 
reouke m.e, to upbraid me, for my desertion of yourself 
and mother, for my long silence. How well you and 
she loved me, — ah, how well, no one knows better than 
I. How mother and you must have suffered, when I 
did not go home that night, and the days and weeks, ^ 
went by, and passed into the months, and the months, 
into the years, and I did not return or make a sign that I 
I lived. Oh, forgive me, forgive me Gene.” 

“ With all my soul, Nina, I forgive,” he cried and with 
arms outstretched, he made a step forward to throw 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 25$ 

them about her, but she waived him away with her 
hand. 

‘‘ I did not dare to go home, Gene, after what had 
happened at the store, that day, you know about it, you 
have heard of it long ago, appearances were against 
me. I was out the night before with Delano, and you 
know what followed the next morning, it was all a 
fiendish plot Gene, to ruin me, to bring me to what he 
wished to make of me. Although knowing myself, to 
be innocent of every charge and the slightest evil, I 
could not bear to face you and mother. I was humili- 
ated Gene, struck to the earth, struck old, as with a 
blow, that hurts me to the soul, yet. I suffered Gene, 
from the thought, that you and mother, would think I 
had been deceiving you both, living a life of deception. 
Oh, Gene, how I suffered, you will never know, no man 
can realize the hurt, the bruise to a woman’s heart, and 
soul. The romance of my young life, had been killed, 
the earth was darkened, the sun blotted out. I could 
see nothing behind me or before me in the future, bpt 
blackness. I was maddened, crazed, all the woman in 
me had been outraged, by this pitiless man, and some- 
thing entered into me, and I said, to myself, ‘ Roscoe 
Delano, you have shown me no pity, I will henceforth 
show you none.’ I had made up my mind, what I in- 
tended to do and what it would cost me. 

“ I must sell my body to this man, and sell my soul 
to hell. Men can never know the hate that enters into 
a woman’s heart, when they commit the cowardly act, 
of depriving her of her good name. When I left the 
room, where Delano had me carried after my faint, I 
wandered about the streets, fighting with myself, fight- 
ing with the step I was about to take, for my whole na- 
ture, while filled with revenge, recoiled against it; but 
at midnight, I found myself, in front of the very house 
Roscoe Delano, tried to make me enter the night 
before. 

“And there under the great deep purple sky, under 
its troops of luminous shining stars and planets, under 
the eye of God, and the pitiful merciful Christ, I took 
an oath, to make him suffer. I offered my body as a 


256 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


sacrifice, to be the instrument through which the man 
who wronged me must suffer. Yes, Gene, in a little 
while the door of that house closed upon me. I knew 
Delano would soon be there, it was his plot, the after- 
scene in his play. Oh, Gene, I have sinned, but only 
once, never again, but that one sin, has fastened a chain 
about my neck, about my feet, and shackled my wrists, 
it has shut me out forever, from your love, mother’s 
love, and the society of my own kind. This is my re- 
venge, Roscoe Delano, has suffered from a mad, wild 
infatuation for me, because I would have nothing more 
to do with him. 

“ He has followed me ever since, thinking some day, 
he will succeed in winning me, but lately he begins to 
see how useless his efforts are. He comes here every 
evening but only for a short half hour, or an hour, and 
leaves. He is the dark shadow of my life, the spectre 
which haunts me, we are linked together by some 
strange destiny, that is beyond me to fathom, by a chain 
of iron, and only fate, or a merciful God, can break it.” 
She covered her face, with her hands, and wept, as she 
had never wept before in all her life, and tears had been 
no friend to her, in the last four years ; blessed tears, 
they came now like a refreshing rain, and deluged the 
dry burning and seared rack of her heart. 

Gene stood like one rooted to the floor, with deadly 
hate for Delano, and fierce rage which burned in heart, 
and soul against him, as the destroyer of his beautiful 
and loved, sister, that had Delano come in at that 
moment, he would have murdered him. Then he found 
his tongue, and his voice, and said, hoarsely, as he 
stepped a pace or tv/o nearer her: 

“ Rise Nina, rise, and come home with me.” He 
stooped down and taking her by the arm, he lifted her 
up. She felt his grip like iron. “ How could you have 
so little faith in myself, and mother, mother who reared 
you from a child, and loved you as her daughter. And 
I who never knew the day, I did not love you, to whose 
boyish eyes, you were the most beautiful thing on earth, 
and who in my boy fancy and dreams, were the 
only ideal. I could think of no future without you. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 257 


One word from you, and I would have slain Roscoe 
Delano, and not a jury in New York, would have hung 
me. Come Nina, let us leave this house, its luxury 
stifles me, it is bought with sorrow, suffering, and sin. 
It’s a wonder to me you live under the villain's roof. 
Come Nina, get your mantle and hat, on, or I will not 
be responsible for my acts, should he enter that door 
while I am here. And I would rather kill you than let 
you remain another night in this house.” 

“ Gene, Gene, listen,” she cried, stretching out her 
hands, appealingly, her eyes, red and scalding from 
tears, “ listen Gene dear, listen.” 

“ Ah, God, be merciful to me, and to you, my poor 
Nina,” he said, softening, and tremblingly he held out 
his arms. “ Oh, my dear Nina, forgive me, if I seem 
harsh, how you must have suffered, my sweet sis- 
ter, how cruel the fates have been to us both. Surely 
there is a just God, in heaven, who will right all these 
crimes against Him, and His children. He closed his 
arms about her, and she laid her head, upon his shoul- 
der, like a tired child, she knew that this one man’s 
heart, out of all the world of men, beat with true, pure, 
and disinterested love, for her. 

She put both hands up to his face, smoothed his 
cheeks, brushed back the hair from his brow, and drew 
her hands over his face again. “ Gene, dear Gene, my 
brother,” she said softly through her tears. He laid her 
head down upon his shoulder, kissed her hair, her brow, 
her cheek. 

“ Oh, Nina, you tear the heart out of me, my God, 
yes, only your brother now.” He pushed her from him', 
and took a step or two and stood with his back to her, 
his whole young strong manly figure, shook with some 
overmastering emotion, as if he were plucking from his 
breast, a bright hope, a long cherished and beautiful 
dream of love, which had been the light, guide, and am- 
bition to every effort made to rise and succeed. 

“Yes, Gene, dear, you are my loved brother, and shall 
always be my brother, and protector,” she said, coven 
ing her face, and weeping again. 

“ YcjS Nina, I am your protector, from now until 


258 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


death claims one or the other of ns,” he answered, turn- 
ing about quickly. “ Come let us leave this cursed 
house, go get your hat, and cape. Take nothing with 
you, but the dress you have on ; come Nina, make 
haste.” 

“ Listen Gene,” she said, with some of her old proud 
air, and brushing the tears, from her eyes, “ be seated 
a moment and hear me, hear what I have to tell you. 
This house and all that is in it is mine, I am not livirg 
on Delano’s money, I have not taken a cent from him 
for nearly three years and a half.” She then told him, 
all about her father, and the papers he left when he was 
dying, and how she had them on her person, when she 
left home. She related to him, all that was told to me 
by Bertram Arlington, and now she was in receipt of an 
income from Italy, and the right to bear her father’s 
title, the Countess Palermo. 

And that she had nursed her income, and the young 
attorney Bertram Arlington, had made several good in- 
vestments for her, and that she was independently rich. 
“ And now Gene dear,” she said, drawing her fingers 
across her temples, as if to shut out from her memory 
the awful dark spot, on her life, to forget it, to bury it, 
and blot it out forever ; and let sunshine, and joy, once 
more brighten her young days. “ Yes, Gene,” and she 
tossed her head, archly, in the old way, “ all I have now 
will be shared with you and mother, I owe it to you and 
to her, her especially, for her years of care of me. I 
intend to give up this house, and return the deed to 
Delano, and I will buy a pretty cottage, in the suburbs. 
I have an elderly lady living with me here, she is home- 
less, and much attached to me. I think she will adapt 
herself, to mother, and they will be friends and I am 
sure mother will like her. 

“ All the furnishings of this house, paintings, books, 
musical instruments, bric-a-brac, are all mine, bought 
with my father’s money. I will have them removed to 
our new home. I have been thinking for the last year, 
of this, and of making my whereabouts known to you, 
and mother. How I wish from my soul, dear Gene, 
now that you have found me^ this heritage, wealth, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 259 


family and title, had come to me without the sorrow, 
stain, and the tragedy which darkens it. But I was not 
mistress of my own fate, but the prey of existing con- 
ditions. I only happened to fare better, than other poor 
girls, caught in the same trap.” 

“ Oh, my poor Nina,” he cried, choking back the feel- 
ings that rankled and tore his heart with anguish, “ oh, 
my darling girl, my sister, there is no blame to be laid 
at your door. We ought to be thankful that you did 
not sink into the degradation, that so many of your sis- 
ters, seem powerless to keep from after taking the first 
stray step. Oh, Nina, what I too have suffered, in the 
past four years, since you left us. I have searched this 
whole city, from north to south, and east to west. Night 
after night, I have walked its streets and avenues, and 
public thoroughfares, until day broke in the heavens, 
thinking I might possibly meet you, and if I had I would 
have picked you up in my arms, and carried you home, 
to mother. I have gone to the slums, to dens of infamy, 
theatres, dance houses, prisons, from there to the most 
fashionable and high-toned houses, of amusements, and 
resorts, but you were not among them. 

“ But you are found here with my arms about you, 
my eyes looking into yours, and I thank God for it, I 
thank Him, that it is no worse. But you tell me Nina 
that Delano still comes here.” 

“ Yes, Gene, as I told you the man has a mad wild in- 
sane infatuation for me, not so much now, for it is begin- 
ning to dawn upon him, the utter hopelessness of his pas- 
sion. Besides I have a certain mastery over him, he 
comes here every night, about eleven o’clock stays a short 
while and leaves.” 

“ Can’t you rid yourself of him ?” 

“ Suffer it to be so now dear Gene, I wish no scandal, 
so long as he behaves himself, so long as he does not 
interfere with my personal liberty, or coerces me in any 
way, I will bear his coming. My name is coupled with 
his, not openly, but my friends know the truth. As I 
said, it is the chain which fetters my soul, I must abide 
by it until a higher power, breaks it. You or myself, 
dear Gene, or mother, can’t help the past, that is dead^ 


26 o 


BEVERLY OSGOOT) t 


SO we must try to be patient, to forget it, and be as 
happy as we can. Let us rejoice that she who was lost 
is found. I am still Nina, to you dear Gene, your Nina, 
your sister.** And she playfully stroked his forehead, 
brushed back his hair, her old way with him. 

A great wave of compassion and tenderness for her, 
welled up in his breast, and swept over him. He took 
her in his arms, kissed her brow, her cheek, her eyelids, 
and she nestled close to him. On her part it was the 
thawing out of a heart, which had for four years been 
frozen, as it were. She had many would be lovers, and 
scores of admirers, and even Bertram with his great love, 
and passion, for her, had failed to melt it, for knowing 
his kind she did not dare to trust him. But Gene, dear 
Gene, the brother, and companion of her childhood 

Then they sat a long time talking. Gene, was to bring 
his mother the next day, they thought it a better plan 
than for Nina to go to her. Gene, was to tell her every- 
thing about her Nina, but to say but little about Delano, 
for the present. Gene told her of Emma Cowen having 
heard about the Countess Palermo, in the store, and how 
she Emma, insisted that the Countess, was none other 
than Nina, his sister, and that some day, she would find 
she was right. “ She must be a prophetess,” said Gene, 
laughing. And Nina, was delighted with Gene*s recital 
of it as he gave spice to Emma’s quaint peculiarities. 

“ You can tell Emma, that your sister Nina is one and 
the same Countess Palermo, leaving much of the details 
out. She need know nothing of Delano, only what she 
is already acquainted with.** Gene was to come at all 
times to her house, until another could be found and 
purchased that suited them. Then Gene with a spring, 
rose from his chair. 

“ In our excitement Nina, we have forgotten some 
one, the very man we have to thank for this meeting. 
The man who since the day he landed in New York 
City, has been untiring in his search for you.’* 

“ Oh,** cried Nina, breathlessly, “ I forgot Mr. Osgood, 
Bertram Arlington*s friend.’* Gene gave a big laugh, as 
I came out of my dark corner, smiling, and bowing to 
Nina, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 261 

“ Mr. Osgood, you beat me,*' he said, with another 
great guffaw. “ You have the slickest way of doing 
things, and getting out of sight,*' and he laughed again, 
as if my after performance struck him, as decidedly 
humorous. 

“ I ask your ladyship's pardon, for playing the spy, 
but not intentionally," I said, “ but as I arranged this 
meeting between yourself, and Gene, I wished to be an 
eyewitness of your happiness." 

Nina held out both her hands to me, and thanked me, 
saying all kinds of pleasant things. “ Come into the 
library. Gene turn on the gas, in the parlor, Samson 
must have forgotten to light it." I threw myself into an 
easy chair near the table, Nina came and turned up the 
lamp to a brighter flame, which fell on my face. I felt 
her glance upon me. 

“ Nina," said Gene, as he came into the library, “ do 
you think you ever saw a young gentleman, who resem- 
bled Mr. Osgood at our flat before you left home ?" 

“ Yes," she answered, “ mother's parlor lodger that 
summer, and Mr. Osgood, is one and the same. I could 
not tell where I had seen you the evening you came 
with Bertram, but I had met you before I knew; I could 
not recall when or where, I seldom ever forget a face. 
I saw but little of you at mother's, and so much has 
come into my life since then, that it never occurred to 
me until just a moment before Gene spoke of your res- 
idence with us that summer, then it came to me like a 
flash where I had seen you. Your object must have 
been not to make yourself known to me when you came 
with Bertram." 

“ It would have been embarrassing to both of us to 
have made myself known to you on that evening, and 
frustrated my plans of bringing yourself and Gene 
together. I did not know how you felt about having 
your whereabouts known to your family, so long as you 
yourself had been silent for four years, I had to work 
cautiously." 

“ That is true," she replied, “ and I thank you; you 
have done for me what I have been wanting to do for 
myself in the last six months^ but kept putting it off, not 


262 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


having the courage to face the ordeal of meeting again 
after what happened those I loved. I thank you again, 
and again, for the trouble you have taken, and your 
kindness to Gene, which makes you one of us. And you 
will now be always a dear friend,” and she smiled sweetly 
upon me, and her large, soft eyes shone with some of 
the pure and deep affection she had for Gene. 

“ Why a friend, Nina, with all the term implies, it is 
but a term, when it comes to Mr. Osgood who has been 
more than a brother to me, that is if he will care to own 
relationship to a poor obscure workman.” 

“ Thanks, my dear Gene, I am proud to be thought 
worthy of such honest affection, and so far as blood, a 
king might think himself royal indeed to have your 
healthy pure blood course through his veins. He held 
out his hand to me, and his grip was firm and strong, 
and I felt the warm heart-throbs beat through to his 
finger tips in that grasp. 

Nina then rang for lunch, it was answered by a 
maid, as Sam the butler was out. In a little while the 
maid brought a most delicious repast, with hot tea and 
coffee. We sat chatting for quite a while, until Nina’s 
face began to wear an anxious expression, and I, Beverly 
Osgood shut my eyes to the shadows passing before me: 
I wished only to retain the vision of this hour with Gene 
and Nina, with them the dark past is forgotten, and 
their dream is of future happiness, a life of sweet peace, 
quiet, and tranquil love, so for to-night we will rejoice 
fhat she who was lost is found. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 263 


CHAPTER IL 

NINA, COUNTESS PALERMO, AT HOME. 

The faint light of the breaking dawn stole into the 
window of the little parlor of the ground floor flat, of the 
tenement house No. — Twenty-F — Street, and found 
Gene, and his mother, still talking over his meeting with 
Nina. Gene told his mother the whole story concerning 
the papers she had given her, on her birthday, and their 
importance, and that Nina had them on her person, when 
she left home. He told her of her great house, and the 
grand style in which she lived, and of Roscoe Delano 
still pursuing her, and persecuting her, keeping the de- 
tails and many of the facts back. Many times during 
Gene’s recital, Mrs. Lunis broke down and wept bitterly, 
so did Gene, the tears coursing down his cheeks, as he 
paced up and down the floor of the small parlor. He 
also informed his mother, of Nina’s intention of buying 
a home in the suburbs, and of them all living together, 
and of her looking forward to a happy future life with 
them. He spoke of Madame Sloan, Nina’s companion, 
a widow, who was homeless, that she would be one of 
the family, and that Nina said, she was sure mother 
would like her. 

So in this way. Gene prepared his mother for her visit 
to her adopted daughter’s. The dawn had crept and 
crept, until the full light of day, filled the little parlor, 
when Mrs. Lunis rose and went back to the kitchen, to 
make a cup of coffee, for herself and Gene, after which 
he threw himself on the sofa, in the dining-room, for an 
hour or two of rest, and sleep. Mrs. Lunis retired to 
the parlor, and laid down. 

It was nearly eleven o’clock, when Gene rang the bell 
at the door of the Countess Palermo’s residence. We 
will not dwell here on the meeting between Nina and 
her mother, suffice it to say, that it was as pathetic, but 
not so tragic, as between Gene and herself. After an 


264 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


hour or so spent in the library, Mrs. Lunis was carried 
upstairs, to Nina’s boudoir, which was as luxuriously 
and tastefully furnished in its way, as the grand salon, 
and library. Here Mrs. Lunis was introduced to Madame 
Sloan, who took Mrs. Lunis all in at a glance, or in vul- 
gar parlance, sized her up. Still withal her worldliness, 
and superficiality, and a certain feeling of jealousy, she 
recognized in the fine, portly, neatly dressed woman, of 
forty- six or seven, with her pleasant intelligent face, 
honest blue eyes, a certain power, a strength of charac- 
ter, which she, Madame, was deficient in. She tucked 
aside her airs and graces, and for once tried to be natural. 
She never mentioned millions, or her millionaire friends, 
during Mrs. Lunis’s stay. She knew how dearly the 
Countess loved this adopted mother, for she was often 
the theme of her conversation. She now of course would 
come in first. She had loved Nina, since the first day 
she came to this beautiful home, had she been Nina’s 
own mother, she could not love her more or show her 
more affection. It would break her heart, if the Coun- 
tess would turn her adrift in the world, now that she 
had found her mother. Mrs. Lunis was not behind in 
her estimate of Madame Sloan, but her larger nature 
looked upon her frivolities, and weaknesses, with charity, 
and her heart went out to her in a kindly sisterly feeling, 
which was not lost on Madame, and she soon learned 
from the general conversation that ensued, that she was 
included in their plans, and looked upon as one of the 
family. 

Mrs. Lunis and Gene, dined with Nina and Madame 
Sloan, in the dining-room, and were waited upon by 
Samson the butler, whose black face expressed the sur- 
prise which made his lips turn ashen-white, when he 
heard his mistress, call Mrs. Lunis, mother. He re- 
marked to the cook, a middle-aged negress, on going 
into the kitchen after something: “Law, Nancy, who 
ye s’pose de company at dinna is ? De Madame ’s mother, 
and brother.” 

“ Hish — se — ye boy, dats’s mo’ ob yere lies,” said 
Nancy, crossing her arms, and resting them on her portly 
waist, her large hips forming porches, as it were. 


OR, WHEN THE OrRAT CITV IS AWAKE. 2^5 


“ It’s de truf I tells ye, but dis yere chile doubts his 
sense an’ his eyes, kase de Countess, looks no mo’ like 
dem, den Ise dose you.” 

After dinner. Gene left to attend to some business for 
his employer, and towards evening Nina carried her 
mother home in her carriage. 

About two weeks after her meeting with Gene, and 
her mother, I received a note from her reminding me of 
her “ At Home,” on the following evening, Saturday. 
“Be sure to come,” she wrote, “as I expect a larger 
number of guests, than usual. It is the first ‘ At Home ’ 
I have given since my return from Long Branch, and for 
some weeks before I went to the Branch, and it is the 
last, I intend giving in this house. Gene will not be 
here, he would not come even if he didn’t have some 
workman’s club, which he writes me he must attend. 
Come early. Bertram will be here. Nina Palermo.” 

In the meantime I had a visit from Bertram. Gene, 
who knew considerable about real estate, and about lo- 
cations, where there were new houses for sale, and in 
course of erection, was ordered by Nina, to be on the 
lookout for a suitable house, but Bertram was to attend 
to the purchasing of it. It was then necessary that Gene 
and Bertram should meet, and I had to play tiers-itat. 
I took Gene to his office, and introduced him. The men 
would have liked each other, but Nina came between. 
Gene knew nothing of Bertram’s love for Nina, only 
what he divined, when he saw so handsome and elegant 
a young man. Bertram was cool, quiet, and reserved, 
but withal acted the gentleman, treating the boy with 
courtesy. 

Gene did not appear at his best, he was shy and awk- 
ward, his face wearing a scowl all through their inter- 
view. The boy mistrusted all of Bertram Arlington’s 
kind, ever since his sister’s flight, and he had no liking 
in his heart for the men belonging to the upper world 
of New York City. Bertram in speaking of him to me 
afterwards, for Bertram had one or two long talks with 
him, said he was a very intelligent level-headed young 
fellow, with a splendid capacity for business. “ I like 


266 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


him,” said Bertram, “he is just the kind of man, who 
would be worth a good deal to my father.” 

It was nearly nine o’clock Saturday evening, when I 
rang the bell at the residence of the Countess Palermo. 
Samson the butler, was in full evening dress, and looked 
every inch a gentleman of color. As I entered the hall, 
the whole house presented a scene of dazzling light, 
color, and perfumes. Everywhere the eye rested, were 
blooming plants, palms, cactuses; bowls of roses stood 
on the posts of the landing of the stairway, and in the 
grand salon, and library, their colors blending with the 
shimmer and sheen of silken stuifs, making a symphony 
of gold, and silver hues, and over all pervaded a faint 
pink atmosphere. Books, paintings, marble statuary, 
all looking like some enchanted scene of art, inhabited 
only by the gods, and goddesses. The grand salon, and 
library, were thrown into one, by taking out the small 
panels, and pushing the folding-doors back into an open- 
ing in the wall, leaving but the pillars, with the silken 
drapery drawn about them. 

I was welcomed by Madame Sloan, whose tall, slim 
figure, was clad in black satin, with white lace at the 
throat. Her faded brown hair, now sprinkled with gray, 
was worn in plain bands, combed back from her fore- 
head, its coils fastened at the nape of the neck, with a 
comb of tortoise-shell. While she had passed the thresh- 
hold of middle age, she was in perfect keeping with her 
surroundings, indeed she rather added to them, by her 
inborn air of distinction, which took away any impres- 
sion which might be suggestive of nevan riche,, by the 
great luxury about her. Although in every sense tinged 
with snobbery, and her whole being permeated with the 
love of money, and she had all her life talked and dreamed 
of millions of dollars; still there was that old New Eng- 
land stock, strong and sturdy, back of her, which gives 
ancestry and character to things and people. 

She received me with all the graces and airs, as if she 
herself, were mistress of this grand mansion, but withal 
so kind and friendly. She introduced me to an artist, 
a Chauncy Willis, a young man of thirty to thirty-five 
years old; he was of medium height, with dark hair, and 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 267 


pale clear skin, well-cut features, and whiskers forked 
on the chin. Also to a Morrison Siles, a tall, slender, 
handsome man, I should think along in the forties. He 
had a poet’s head, dark curling hair, well-defined features, 
a broad brow, with marked ideality, deep dreamy gray 
eyes, a heavy drooping moustache, which shaded a mouth 
refined, but somewhat convivial. He had all tho air 
and manner of the art- world, and a bon-vivant; he was 
the painter of the beautiful figure, “ Sleep,” that hung 
over the mantlepiece in the grand salon. Chauncey 
Willis was a marine painter; a small painting of his, with 
a strong dash of the sea, a low line of light, and a three- 
mast sail, rising in the distance, hung in the library, on 
one of the panels, between the three windows. 

In a few moments Sam ushered in two gentlemen, one 
a middle-aged man, of a literary type, and with him, a 
young man, of twenty-five or six; they were in evening 
dress, and the young man was exceedingly swell. He 
was a handsome fellow, straight and slim, and away 
above the average height. But young as he was, he 
had that New York City air, of r homme blase. The 
older man, Chester Harding, was a well-known news- 
paperman and magazine writer; he had a strong intellec- 
tual face, sparse brown hair, and small bright gray eyes, 
which had an absent vague way, of looking out from 
under glasses. For all they were observing eyes. 

Chester Harding had started in youth, with the ambi- 
tion and enthusiasm to do something of note, something 
which would set him apart from his confreres in the liter- 
ary field ; he had dreams and visions of high things, but 
after a long battle with men, and penury, the iron hand 
was too much for him, so he drifted like most of the 
American men of his day, to becoming a literary hack, 
a mere mechanical drudge, which paid him well, but 
crushed his aspirations, and all the originality out of 
him. Chester Harding was having an interesting con- 
versation with Morrison Siles, and Frank Boyington, 
his young companion, whose father was a Brooklyn mer- 
chant of some wealth, and he himself, was now a reporter 
on one of the Brooklyn morning papers. Willis and my- 
self were exchanging a few remarks on pictures, books^ 


I 


268 BEVERLY OSGOOt) j 

and things, when Bertram entered, and to my surprise 
and amazement, Oswald de Conte followed. 

“ Oh, ah, Beverly, my deah fellow, so, really so pleased 
to see yon,” he said, holding ont his hand, “ when did 
yon arrive in New Yawk ? Come, my deah fellow, hea 
to convert ns, I snppose, ha, ha. Yon’ll find ns a ha-r-d 
stnbborn set. I snppose like the rest of yona colleagnes, 
yona a silva advocate.” He langhed, as he took a light 
kid glove from off his left hand. He had grown mnch 
stonter in the last fonr years, and wore an evening snit 
of great elegance and fit. Small diamond stnds,of the pnr- 
est water, gleamed in his immacnlate shirt front, and his 
bontonnier was of blnsh roses. Bertram was also in even- 
ing dress, wearing a carnation rose in his bnttonhole; 
he looked handsomer than I ever saw him. 

Some were seated, others standing abont in gronps. 
I was speaking with Bertram, when Nina made her ap- 
pearance ; my heart leaped to my month, at sight of her, 
and how must the other men have been affected, when 
I so cool and so hard to be touched, in matters of the 
heart, could only gaze and feast my eyes on such tran- 
scendant beauty. She wore a long trailing robe of rich 
brocade, which looked like beaten yellow cream, a sort of 
princess. It opened at the neck in a V-shape and flared 
out, tapering back into a high Medici collar, which was 
studded thick with pearls. The sleeves were long, com- 
ing down to the wrist in a ruffle of priceless lace. About 
her waist, was a long chatelain, made of heavy links of 
wrought silver, and gold, it was attached to the left side 
of her waist, crossed low down on the hips, to the right, 
where the long train was drawn through, falling over in 
a loop. Clasping her bare white throat, was a necklace 
of pearls, and diamonds, a pearl comb fastened the lux- 
uriant coils of her black hair, high upon her regal head, 
a bandeaux of pearls, like the one she wore the night I 
saw her at the theatre, bound the curls on her brow. 

Her great dark eyes, luminous with the light of her 
soul, yet tinged with sadness, and the sadder drama of 
her life, a dreamfulness which made them a dream. Her 
skin, white like the pearls which nestled in her raven 
hair, and the lilies on her bosom. She was not the 


Ok, WHEN the great city is aWake. 269 

simple, loving, tender woman, I saw here a few nights 
before with Gene Lnnis ; she had put that woman aside, 
and stood now in our midst a queen, a radiant, brilliant 
proud, dazzling woman of the world, with all her armor 
on, ready to do battle. 

She had been to a great school in the last four years, 
she was a pupil of the world. Her intellect was quick 
to read human nature, to grasp its weaknesses, foibles, 
follies, and vanities, and use them in her own way. She 
stretched out her arms, giving one hand to Bertram, and 
the other to myself. I saw the same expression come 
over his face, as he took the hand, she held out to him, 
between his own two, as I saw on the night in the thea- 
tre, when I sat dumb and dazed, thinking them some 
apparition, some phantom of my brain, a look of baffled 
passion, of hope deferred, which maketh the heart sick. 
The men gathered about her, all vieing with each other 
to do her homage. Chester Harding’s absent gray eyes, 
flamed up as he paid her some flattering compliment, 
which she acknowledged with a smile, yet the short 
upper lip curled proudly, as she gave back a quick re- 
tort, which vanquished him, but he accepted it graciously, 
bowing almost to the ground before her. An expression 
of pleasure passed over Oswald de Coute’s face, as he 
rested his eyes upon her, like an epicure, who has ex- 
hausted the resources and devices of his cook, by acci- 
dent comes across some new dish, which delights his 
palate. Nina was a new dish to this epicure, this veteran 
of the social world, schooled in all the tactics which go 
to conquer in the field of femininity. 

This connoisseur, so graceful, yet so bold, with so much 
cool audacity, yet ever courteous. His handsome person, 
elegant manners, his lazy English drawl in speaking, 
yet ever on the alert, to show attention to the fair one, 
made him a great favorite with women. Still withal, 
faithless, intriguing, sensual, and sensuous, loving. 
From what I gleaned from Bertram, his sister, the lovely 
Jeanette, was none too happy with him. Whether it 
came from some breeze wafted to her ears of his liason, 
before their marriage, with Mrs. Leroy Johnathan, I 
know not. But what faux pas he made before his mar- 


570 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


riage, he did not insult his wife, or do her the outrage 
to keep a mistress, as many of the married men, of his 
kind, do in New York. 

It was not the first time he was a guest at the Coun- 
tess Palermo’s “At Homes,” or the second, or third, 
that he enjoyed her hospitality, but it was the first since 
spring. The Countess Palermo, was to this Vhomme 
hlasd^ Vhomme du monde^ a rare species of la femtfie du 
monde^ as he thought her, so beautiful, with her regal 
form, and deep, dark, misty eyes, and a face which made 
one think of some tragic love song, a refinement that 
was charming, a brilliancy which gleamed, and flashed 
like gems of the purest water, and which drew men to 
her and still kept them at bay. 

He had heard whispers about her coupling her name 
with that vulgar shopman, as he termed Delano, the 
mystery which shut her out from New York’s upper 
world, where she belonged, and Bertram was really in 
love with her, he knew. Well, he didn’t blame him. 
Bertram spoke of her but little to him, but he had assured 
him, nothing existed between her and Delano. All the 
men thought there did, but Bertram had said to him, 
she was as pure as Venus, when rising at dawn in the 
heavens. 

To Nina, Oswald de Coute was an exceedingly inter- 
esting personage, he was just the kind of man she liked 
to tilt swords with. He was so well-bred, he would give 
and take with such grace, and good-nature, that it was 
a delight to spar with him. He knew his power and like 
a woman, he would stoop to conquer. With him her 
flashes of wit, and repartee came thick and fast, he was 
vain, but no cad, when hit, he enjoyed it, so long as it 
came from a woman, he was all the more delicate in his 
return thrusts. 

Young Boyington could hardly contain himself, when 
presented to Nina: surprise, wonder, and delight, blazed 
from his eyes, as they rested upon her, and he hardly 
knew what to say, or do. It was the first time he met 
her; he had heard whispers of her, at the clubs, and in 
the circles where young men of his guild, and preten-^ 
cions met to gossip, for it’s folly to say that men don't 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 27 1 

like a bit of the latest scandal, as well as women. He 
had begged Harding to obtain him an invitation to 
the Countess's “At Homes.” Young, impulsive, with 
all the passions alive, and never having curbed them, 
he went right in pellmell, to making love to her. With 
a pale face and tugging nervously at his mustache, he 
followed her where ever she moved about the room* 
finally she stood still and asked him if he wouldn’t be 
seated. He smiled, tugged at his mustache, mumbled 
some compliment, then he caught Harding’s eye, which 
was full of reproof, he took the hint and threw himself 
into the nearest chair, and began talking to Chauncy 
Willis. 

Morrison Siles rested his deep gray eyes upon her, as 
she spoke a minute or two with him. They were lovely 
eyes, with a poet’s soul shining in them. He had a grave, 
elegant, courteous manner, and loved the young Coun- 
tess with the love of a father for a daughter. Loved her 
for her beauty, intelligence, and womanliness. And he 
was a great favorite with her. Chauncy Willis was well- 
known in New York for his marine views; he belonged 
to the impressionist school, he was quite talented, but 
was essentially a worldling, cold and mercenary, he 
loved money and the plaudits of men. He toadied to 
Nina, because she was rich, bought his work, and lived 
in a fine establishment. Had she been poor, and as 
beautiful as Eve, with the intellect of Aspasia, so long 
as she could be of no material use to him, he would not 
have desired her acquaintance. He would send a char- 
woman, if she happened to call at his studio, to say he 
was not at home. 

Madame Sloan did her part in entertaining the other 
gentlemen, as well as myself ; she was quite interesting, 
and seemed to grow younger by ten years, as she laughed 
and chatted with us all, saying gracious and amusing 
things, as she passed from one to the other. After a 
while she left and went into the hall, and ordered Sam 
to arrange the large table in the library, for whist. That 
eight could sit around the table, it made it more sociable, 
and still play the four-hand game. 

Nina didn’t play, Madame Sloan took her seat at the 


272 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


lower end of the table. Morrison Siles, Bertram, Oswald 
de Conte, and myself had the upper end, near the mantel- 
piece. Madame, Channcy Willis, Chester Harding, and 
Frank Boyington, the lower end. Bertram sat at my 
right, at the head of the table, Morrison Siles at my left, 
and Oswald de Conte, his partner opposite, facing the 
grand salon. We had been playing but a short while 
when Samson brought in a silver salver, full of small 
glasses, filled with sherry, and passed them around. 

Nina took a seat between myself and Bertram, Sam 
placed a glass of wine before her, but I observed she did 
not touch it. I drank half of mine, as I felt tired, and 
thought it would buoy me up. Bertram, Oswald de 
Conte, and the other men, drank theirs at one swallow, 
as if they were thirsty, and I suppose to give zest to their 
playing. However, the glasses were so small that their 
contents could be taken at a mouthful. Bertram was 
happy to have Nina at his side, so near him ; so was I. 
She was more than usually bright and brilliant on this 
evening. I could have taken an oath, there was not a 
man sitting around the table, but what was in love with 
her. 

She understood the game of whist well, but cards, she 
did not like to play, she told me she had a strange aver- 
sion to them, that she only tolerated them, because they 
amused the gentlemen. In a few minutes she rose, and 
seated herself near Madame Sloan. Frank Boyington 
forgot the game, his points, cards, and all about him, 
and began gabbing to her. I drew the attention of Ber- 
tram, and the other men around me to him, and they all 
roared with laughter, but Bertram’s eyes shot out scorn 
and fire at the youth, for his daring impudence. Boying- 
ton amused Nina greatly, so to save him from making 
further breaks in the game, she left the table, and seated 
herself at the piano, where she gave us some delightful 
arias from the operas, some waltzes by Strauss, and some 
more recent and popular pieces, by different composers. 
Morrison Siles asked for a song ; she sang the drinking 
song from Faust, and “ When in dreams I see thee.” 
Samson watched the glasses, for Samson himself, was 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 273 

in high glee. He soon brought in bottles of champagne- 
frappe. 

Nina chatted a while with us again, then went and 
began tuning up her violin ; she seemed imbued with the 
spirit of music. She gave us, “ Ah, I have sighed to rest 
me,” from II Trovatore. She outdid herself in its execu- 
tion,the fervor and the soul,she put into it. It warmed the 
whist players up to the game, and they felt good and 
kindly toward each other, and all the world. 

I found Morrison Siles a charming fellow, witty, with 
a quiet kind of humor, that was delightful. Oswald de 
Coute was an expert whist player, and loved the game, 
and I could see did better under the influence of cham- 
pagne-frappe. Bertram was his master, though, and 
under the stimulus of the wine, excelled himself, and 
every one at the table. I, being a poor player, was con- 
tent to drop out, and so did Madame Sloan, and the table 
formed a six-hand game. After a while I looked at my 
watch, it was a quarter to eleven, when the second game 
was finished. The Countess gave the order to Sam to 
arrange the table for lunch, they would not have it in 
the dining-room, as was intended, but in the library. 

We all gathered in the grand salon, while Madame 
Sloan, Sam, and a white maid, a middle-aged woman, 
attended to the supper. It seemed but a short while 
until we were all seated about the table, which groaned 
under the weight of flowers, fruits, perfumes, ices, creams, 
jellies, cakes, crackers, salads, game, and oysters, in dif- 
ferent styles. The Countess took her seat between Ber- 
tram and myself, for we all resumed the same seats, we 
had when playing. Samson was busy passing plates of scal- 
loped oysters, which the maid dished out of a large granite 
pan, placed on a side table, brought in for the occasion. 
All the men were happy, jolly, and hungry. While Nina 
was playing, Samson had filled their glasses a little too 
freely. Like the voter, he was on hand early and often. 

I never saw Nina so happy. Her usual manner was 
reserved and tinged with hauteur, but to-night, she took 
on a charming abandon, and seemed to throw her whole 
self into the feast. But in the midst of the bright quips, 
the rpeartee, and gay laughter, my quick ear caught the 


274 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


click of the latch-key, turning in the heavy front door, 
then it swung open. Nina must have heard it even be- 
fore I did, for she turned pale, and the glad smile died 
on her lips, and in a few moments Roscoe Delano en- 
tered the library, unannounced. He was in full evening 
dress, knowing it to be the Countess’s “ At Home ” night. 
He was not a society man, he knew little or nothing of 
its conventions or demands, and cared less, but he had 
a great deal of vanity about his personal appearance, 
and didn’t want to be behind the men he met there. 
He had been drinking, and his face was the color of a 
Buffalo’s hide, and looked coarse and bloated. 

“ Good-evening, gentlemen, ha, ha,” he shouted, thrust- 
ing his hands down in his pants’ pockets, and casting 
his glance on Nina, as he advanced towards her. She 
returned it with a scornful laugh, and an expression on 
her face, which was awful, in its contempt and loathing. 
“ Ha, ha, more victims,” he said, drawing closer to her 
side, “ and every one of them drunk, ha, ha, ha.” 

“ Not my victims, but the victims of their own follies, 
like yourself,” she answered, in an undertone, but he 
heard it, so did I, and so must Bertram, also, who was 
seated at her right. I do not think the other guests did. 

“Go on, gentlemen, ‘drink and be merry, for to- 
morrow we die.’ Go in gentlemen, begash gentlemen. I’m 
the victim. I’m ignored, not thought enough of to be sent 
an invitation to her ladyship’s ‘ At Homes.’ You ought to 
think yourselves fortunate to be so favored by my ward, 
my ward in chancery, ha, ha. This queen, the most beau- 
tiful woman in New York City,the Countess Palermo, ha, 
ha.” His laugh was full of malignity, and derision. 
Bertram turned pale as death, and his eyes blazed with 
anger, and fierce hate of the man, who dared to speak 
to her thus. But he beat back the desire which almost 
consumed him, to rise and strike Delano to the floor, 
where he stood, for he did not want to make a scene; 
scenes are exceedingly unpleasant things, and it would 
horrify the Countess. Oswald de Coute’s face, was the 
picture of cool insolence, and disgust, as he eyed Delano, 
and picked at his oysters, with a silver fork. 

Young Boyington could hardly contain himself, When 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 2/5 


Delano first entered the library, he dropped his knife 
and fork on his plate, settled in his chair, and with sur- 
prise, astonishment, and utter dumfoundedness, written 
on every feature, watched his every move. Then this 
was the man who he had heard so many conflicting 
stories about, who rumor said, remained in the back- 
ground, and paid the Countess’s bills. But he felt now 
that he wanted to take him by the collar of the coat, and 
pitch him out of the window. Delano walked around 
to the opposite side of the table, seeing an opening where 
De Coute was seated; he stood at his right, so that he 
could face Nina. Sam brought him a chair, he drew it 
closer to De Coute’s side, and nearer the table. Sam 
then placed a glass of champagne before him, which he 
drank off at nearly one swallow. “A dish of these scal- 
loped oysters, Sam,” he asked with a great puff. 

I turn my head quickly in the direction of the door, 
leading into the hall, thinking I heard stealthy steps; 
they seem to come up the basement stairs. I listen a 
moment, but they die away, I tell myself I am a little 
nervous and excited by Delano’s conduct, and my sym- 
pathy for Nina. Still, before leaving my room, that 
evening, I felt strangely oppressed. Once or twice as 
I stood before my dressing-case mirror buttoning my 
collar, and tying my cravat, I could have sworn that 
some dark shadow flitted between me and the gaslight. 
And when on my way to the Countess’s house, I was sure 
that whatever it was, it still pursued me, for I was star- 
tled by the same shadow, walking side by side with me 
until I reached the door, where it seemed to leave me, 
and then I forgot all about it until this moment. 

“ Those oysters were good,” said Delano, pushing his 
glass to Sam, to be refilled. Nina shakes her head at 
Sam, but Sam does not see her, and fills the glass. “ Some 
of that cream, with jelly, Sam.” Sam helps him to the 
cream, then he rose to drink a toast, holding the glass 
of champagne in his hand. 

Ah, again I hear stealthy steps, this time they seem to 
be in the grand salon, I hear the stirring of the drapery, 
what is the matter with me ? Ah, Beverly, this seeing, 
and feeling gift of yours, is annoying at times, for to 


2/6 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


rise now and go looking about would be to make myself 
ridiculous. But ah, again I turn quickly in my chair, 
as I thought I detected the faint rustle of a woman’s 
skirts, and look back of me into the salon parlor, but I 
see nothing. I glance down to the foot of the table, 
Madame Sloan is there talking with Chester Harding, 
and Nina sits by my side, and the men are all in their 
place. It must be some of the female servants, stealing 
into the grand salon to get a glimpse of the company. 
Then my attention is attracted to Delano. 

“ Here’s to my ward, my beautiful queen, my ward 

in chancery, ha, ha his — sss. My God, what is that ? 

wiss-ss-s, a flash, a gleam, a flame of Are. A shot, and 
the blood spurts from De Coute’s head, another, and 
another shot, and Delano falls to the floor shot to the 
heart. 

Nina, with a scream, which seems to rend the walls 
of the whole house, and which I never can forget until 
I lie as lifeless as Delano, faints dead away, so does 
Madame Sloan. I jump to my feet with a thousand con- 
flicting thoughts, and surmises, passing through my 
brain. I run into the salon parlor, no one there, and 
then into the hall, and down its length to the head of 
the basement stairs, where Sam, his black face an ashen 
hue, passes me, and with two strides is at the bottom. 
I rush back to the library, Bertram hasn’t moved, he 
seemed struck dumb, and could neither speak or act. 

“ Bertram, for heaven’s sake, rouse yourself, and at- 
tend to Nina.” 

At the sound of my voice, he leaped to his feet, bent 
over her prostrate body, lifted her in his arms, and car- 
ried her to a couch in the drawing-room, and the thought 
came to him, and let us not blame him, that she was all 
his now, this hateful Delano was out of the way, not by 
her hand or his, but some unknown, perhaps by some 
of his many other victims. And his heart swelled with 
compassion for her, and for the first time he kissed her 
cheek, her lips, and chafed her hands, and called her 
endearing names. Then Madame Sloan who had re- 
covered, came in with a glass of wine, and in a few 
minutes Bertram left in the care of Madame Sloan, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 277 


and he went into the library to look after his brother- 
in-law, Oswald de Coute. Morrison Siles, and Chester 
Harding, had taken their handkerchiefs and bound up 
the wound, while Frank Boyington who had taken in the 
whole situation at a glance went for the nearest doctor. 

“ Ah,” said the doctor, as he entered the library, and 
gave a quick scrutinizing glance about the room. Chauncy 
Willis pointed to Delano. “ This man’s dead,” said the 
doctor, examining Delano’s body, shot to the heart, “ and 
who fired the shot ?” he asked, looking towards the couch, 
where De Coute lay, then he went over to him, and be- 
gan taking the bandage off De Coute’s head, to dress the 
wound. “ My dear sir, you have had a narrow escape, 
had the ball gone a quarter of an inch farther, to the 
left, it would have lodged in the brain, and you would 
have been a dead man. As it is you are safe and will 
be all right, in two or three weeks.” 

“ The ball that killed Roscoe Delano was intended 
for me,” said Oswald. “There were three shots fired, 
the first struck me, I saw the other coming, and dipped 
my head. Delano, who was standing up and facing the 
salon, I think was too stunned to move, and got the con- 
tents of the revolver.” 

“ Who do you think fired them ?” asked the doctor. 

“That is the mystery, which will have to be solved 
at the trial,” returned De Coute. 

“No one in this room, fired the shots which killed 
Roscoe Delano, and wounded my brother-in-law,” said 
Bertram calmly. “ We were all sitting around the table, 
enjoying ourselves, with the best of feeling for each 
other, we are all gentlemen and friends. There was no 
one in the house, except the Countess Palermo, the host- 
ess, and her companion, Madame Sloan, and all the serv- 
ants. The Countess was seated at the table with the 
rest of the party, and so was her companion, when the 
shots were fired.” 

With that Nina, who had recovered, came into the 
library. She was as white as the lilies on her bosom, 
her face, pinched, haggard, and old, as if years, had 
passed over her head, in the few minutes since Delano 
was struck dead, before her eyes. She came staggering 


2/8 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


in with her arms outstretched in mute appeal to Bertram, 
then all his wits came to him, he saw in an instant, as 
it were, their whole situation, he leaped to her side, and 
took both her hands in his. 

“Oh, Bertram, who could have done it ?*’ she cried, 
as her glance fell on the dead man. “It is awful, hor- 
rible, Bertram, the whole city will ring with it in the 
morning, and my name, my father’s proud name, which 
I have guarded so jealously, which I have suffered, and 
borne so much for, will be dragged in the mud and mire 
of the street, heralded all over the world, by the news- 
papers, oh, it is horrible.” 

“ Be calm and cool, Nina, brace yourself up for the 
ordeal; the officers of the law, will be here in a few 
moments, Boyington has gone for them. And now, 
Nina, Countess Palermo, my time has come to prove 
my love, the love I bear you, the love which you have 
doubted, which you have no faith in. From henceforth, 
my time, my talents, fortune, and life, will be all yours, 
in this struggle,” he whispered. 

“ Oh,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands, 
“ just as I was looking forward to a new and happy life, 
with mother, and Gene, my brother. Oh, Bertram, that 
dead man has been the bete noire of my life, ’its evil genius, 
my God, the curse of my youth.” She bowed her head, 
raised her arms up, and locked her fingers in the coils 
of her hair. 

“Oh, my Nina, I too dared to hope, that when you 
gave up this house, and returned to your mother and 
brother, he would not have dared to annoy you longer; 
Gene would have prevented it, but let us not think of it 
now dear, here are the officers.” 

Two police officers entered with Boyington, who had 
gone to the nearest precinct, one was a sergeant. All 
the servants, cook, housemaid, and the middle-aged 
woman, who waited with Sam at supper, and who seemed 
to act as an upper servant, or housekeeper, were gathered 
upstairs by* orders of the police, even the coachman was 
awakened and called in. 

“ We had been playing whist,” said Bertram, after the 
sergeant was through questioning the others^ “and had 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT ClTV IS AWAKE. ^^0 


not been seated long at the supper-table, when Roscoe 
Delano, of the firm of — — — , the large dry-goods house, 
on Sixth Avenue, came in. The Countess was a ward 
of his, and he was in the habit of coming to her ‘ At 
Homes,’ about half after ten or eleven o’clock, staying 
half an hour or an hour, and leaving. Samson the but- 
ler, here, says Mr. Delano, frequently left the front door 
ajar, when he came in, until he hung up his hat, and 
his cane ; he might have forgotten to shut the door, and 
some one in the meantime, who had been watching their 
opportunity, slipped into the house, for the shots came 
from the grand salon. The first shot fired, struck De 
Coute, he dipped his head, and Delano received the other 
two. No one but the dead man, caught a glimpse of the 
one who fired the shot.” 

The police searched the house from cellar to attic, but 
found nothing. I shall have to put you all under arrest,” 
said the sergeant, “ and take you to the precinct station.” 

“ Can’t there be an officer detailed, to hold the Count- 
ess, and her household prisoners here, until after the 
inquest ?” inquired Bertram. 

“ Perhaps you can get the captain to do that, but you 
will all have to come with me, to the precinct. I will 
send an officer here to take charge of the house.” 

“We are all gentlemen, well known in New York, 
and thoroughly responsible,” said Bertram, somewhat 
impatiently. 

“ I’m sure of that, sir, but well-known gentlemen 
sometimes get into trouble too, as well as common folks ; 
but it’s very unfortunate that such a tragedy should oc- 
cur in a great house like this.” 

“ I would like to change my dress,” said Nina, “ and 
also my companion here, Madame Sloan.” 

“ Certainly ma’am, I will send an officer upstairs with 
ye both.” 

In a short while Nina, and Mrs. Sloan, came back. 
Nina wore a dark navy-blue serge, with a black mantle 
thrown over her shoulders, and a dark hat. Mrs. Sloan was 
dressed in deep black, and with them came the middle- 
aged woman, who we shall call Ann Simmons. In the 
meantime, Bertram had sent Boyington for a carriage, 


Beverly osgood ; 


286 

so Nina, Countess Palermo, accompanied by the wometl 
of her household, and Bertram Arlington, who scarcely 
left her side, only while she absented herself, to change 
her white silken robe, and jewels, for a dark serge, was 
driven in the carriage to the precinct. Myself, and the 
other men walking there. 

This was the ending of that party, to which she had 
looked forward to as being the gayest, brightest, and 
happiest, of her life; after which she wonld bid farewell 
to the great house, forever. How little did she think, 
that the denouement would be the horrible tragedy just 
enacted, or that she would leave it that night, never 
again to cross its threshold. 


CHAPTER III. 

SEEKS FORGETFULNESS IN THE LIGHT OF THE NEW. 

After a hurried statement of the shooting of Roscoe 
Delano given by each of the witnesses, we were all dis- 
charged but Nina and Madame Sloan, who were held 
until after the coroner’s inquest. Bertram and myself 
tried all the persuasive powers we were master of, upon 
the captain, to get him to release Nina and Madame un- 
til further developments, so that she could go home to 
her mother’s apartments, but it was of no avail. The 
captain very kindly offered the prisoners one of the 
matron’s rooms for the night. After seeing that they 
were made comfortable, Bertram and myself took leave 
of each other at the door of the station. He called a cab 
for Oswald de Coute and himself, and they were driven 
to his hotel. 

With a heavy, aching heart, I made my way to the lit- 
tle flat on 20 F — Street to break the sad news to the 
family, who but a few weeks before had found the loved 
lost daughter and sister, and had taken a new lease of 
life and happiness. It was full day when I rang the bell 
at the door of Mrs. Tunis’s apartments. After a wait 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWARE. 2^i 

of three or four minutes, the door was opened ajar by 
Mrs. Lunis, who had hurriedly slipped on a wrapper. 

“ Oh, it’s you Mr. Osgood,” she exclaimed, the color 
dying out of her face. “ Oh, yes, come in; excuse me 
for keeping you standing in the hall. When you rang I 
was having such a strange, troubled dream about Nina, 
but really I hope nothing is the matter,” she said, shut- 
ting the door after I entered. 

“ Calm yourself, Mrs. Lunis, Nina is all safe, nothing 
has occurred that you or Gene, or I can help,” I said, 
seeing that she had turned deadly white. 

“ Oh, thank God Nina is safe. Nina, my poor child, 
my unfortunate daughter, oh, oh, dear sir, her intellect 
and beauty has been a curse to her, and to those that 
love her.” 

“ Sit down Mrs. Lunis, sit down here by me, and 
listen, for she stood by the door, nervously fumbling at 
the buttons of her wrapper that she had not taken the 
time to fasten. 

“ Oh, dear Mr. Osgood, something dreadful has hap- 
pened I knew, I felt it last night. Gene was out, he was 
at his club; it was the first meeting since they adjourned 
in May for the summer, and it was about half after ten 
when he got home. I was alone all evening, but sure 
that’s nothing, I am always alone when Gene goes out, 
unless Emma Cowen or Jacob Astor, drops in before 
they go upstairs to their own apartments. 

“ I was sitting in the dining-room sewing, I am very 
brave if I do say it myself, and have good common sense 
about things, but I kept hearing footsteps in the parlor 
all evening. I got up twice and came in here and lit the 
gas, and looked to see if all the doors and windows were 
fastened. I went back and sat down, and took up my 
sewin’ again, thinkin’ it all my imagination, but in a 
short while, oh, I could have sworn sir, that some one 
came and stood by my shoulder, ‘ Holy Mother,’ I cried 
to myself, ‘ protect me, what is that?’ an’ I let the waist 
of a dress I was sewin’ on drop out of my hands on the 
floor. I looked all about me, rose up and came in here 
the third time, I had left the gas burning a little, but I 
could see nothing. I wished Emma Cowen would come 


282 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


down, I would have gone up to her mother’s, but I ex- 
pected Gene in every moment. An’ I have been dream- 
ing all night about Nina, she’s in some trouble sir, I 
know. Oh, do tell me sir.” 

I let her talk on, feeling it would prepare her to hear 
the worst. Then I related to her as briefly as possible 
■what had happened, and that Roscoe Delano had been 
shot and killed in the library, under her very eyes by 
some unknown person. 

“ Oh, Mr. Osgood, a just retribution, if the killing had 
only happened anywhere else, but in her house, and un- 
der her eyes.” 

“ Yes, if it had only happened anywhere else but in 
her house,” I repeated reflectively, more as if speaking 
to myself, “ how fortunate it would have been for Nina ” 

“Where is Nina?” she asked, looking so pale and 
worn, that she seemed to have aged years since I came 
into the room. “ She surely didn’t stay in that house 
after the shooting.” 

“ In prison,” I answered. 

. prison, Mr. Osgood, oh, blessed Mother of God be 
pitiful to my poor girl and to us all,” she said, rising 
from her seat, but she had put her hands up to hide the 
tears which had forced their way to her eyes, and flowed 
down her cheeks. ** I will call Gene, Mr. Osgood.” 

My dear Mrs. Lunis be calm, everything will be all 
right in a few days; Nina and Madame are just detained 
at the precinct until after the corner’s inquest, which 
will be to-day or to-morrow. Nina has many influential 
friends besides myself, and yourself, and Gene. You 
shall have to make ready here for her and Madame 
Sloan, for Nina will never set foot in that great house 
again.” 

“ Thank God,” she said in a half whisper. Then I 
raised my eyes and saw Gene standing in the archway 
which divided the parlor and the small bedroom, he had 
drawn aside the portieres, and was about to enter as 
Mrs. Lunis rose to call him. 

“ Mr. Osgood, I have heard all,” he said, his face as 
pale and haggard as his mother’s. “ Roscoe Delano has 
met with his just deserts at last, but at what cost to Nina 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 283 

who can tell. To be shot down in her house, and under 
her very eyes, awful, horrible. Who do yon suppose was 
the murderer?’* 

“ That is the mystery, some one must have followed 
him to the house and stolen in. Sam the butler, says 
that Delano often left the hall door ajar, when he came 
in, in the evening he would give it a swing to, but some- 
times the latch wouldn’t catch, but he generally closed 
it before leaving the hall. Sam on two or three occa- 
sions found it open, after that he made it his business to 
follow behind Delano to see if it were closed, but last 
night he was so busy waiting on the guests that he for- 
got all about the door. Either that or some one stole in 
through the basement during the day, and secreted 
themselves in the house, for the shots which wounded 
De Coute and killed Delano came from the grand 
salon.” 

“ Some one of his many victims, perhaps,” said Gene, 
walking up and down the floor, “ who has been watching 
for this chance for months and years to kill him. Come 
mother, try and pull yourself together, and make us a 
cup of coffee and some breakfast. Mr. Osgood has been 
up all night, then we will go to the police precinct.” 

“ I did not just like the way in which Gene took this 
crisis in his sister’s life, the dead quiet of his manner 
was so different from his natural impulsiveness and hot 
passionate feelings in things concerning her. I think 
though, all the quick changing emotions of the man had 
been lived through while he listened, alone in the parlor 
bedroom, and he had steeled himself to be calm before 
he came in the presence of his mother and myself. 

Mrs. Lunis made us a delicious cup of coffee. Nina’s 
cook never made coffee to equal it ; we had also some lovely 
homemade rolls and butter, baked the day before (so 
Mrs. Lunis whispered to me, she was sorry she hadn’t 
something better). I replied if she had the whole world, 
I couldn’t enjoy it more. Gene drank two cups of coffee 
and ate but one roll, I was famished with hunger, for 
we had just seated ourselves and commenced to eat of 
Nina’s supper, when Delano came, and a few minutes 
later the shots were fired. I drank two good cupfuls of 


284 


BEVERLY OSGOOD | 


coffee, and ate two rolls. Dear Mrs. Lnnis, barely 
sipped her coffee, and didn’t taste a mouthful. 

In a short while we were in the office of the precinct, 
we were informed by the matron who was called in, that 
the Countess Palermo and her companion were lying 
down, they were worn out after being up all night. 
Would the gentlemen take a seat in the office, and she 
would tell them that friends wished to see them. In a 
short while she returned and said we could go up and to 
follow her. I bid Gene good-bye here, saying I would 
see him again about three in the afternoon, and to be 
very careful what he said before strangers, and particu- 
larly the police, until he saw Bertram Arlington, who he 
might expect any moment. Bertram I was sure would 
act as Nina’s counsel, and would also engage to help him 
the best in the City of New York. 

“ Mr. Osgood,” he said, turning round and looking me 
straight in the eye, his face white and wearing a rigid 
determined expression, “ one cannot tell in a case like 
this what turn things may take. There is the State, and 
Delano’s people on his side. You don’t understand the 
New York people like I do. But one thing I’m certain 
of, Nina shall never go to prison charged with the 
murder of Delano. I will lay my plans before Mr. 
Arlington and his counsel, should the worst come to the 
worst, which I feel likely it will. I know what can be 
done; no, my sister Nina has suffered enough at the 
hands of Delano. Life would become unbearable to me 
if she should have to go to prison.” 

“ Nonsense Gene, it’s absurd to think that by any pos- 
sible turn in affairs she would even be suspected of hav- 
ing the slightest connection with the killing of Delano. 
My dear fellow the idea is absurd, with so many eye- 
witnesses of the shooting. Banish that thought from 
your mind.” 

As I made my way to my room to take a fev7 hours’ 
rest, and to try and get some sleep, I stopped at the first 
news stand and bought two of the morning papers. To 
my amazement, for I did not think on account of the 
lateness of the hour there would be anything said of the 
death of Delano. But there it was in large headlines. 


OR, WHEN Me great city is awake. 285 


‘ The killing of Roscoe Delano, of the large dry goods 

house of on Sixth Avenue, shot and killed in the 

house of his mistress on West 80 S Street. Full 

particulars could not be obtained before going to press 
on account of the lateness of the hour.” The evening 
papers came out with large headlines, and several col- 
umns of sensational matter. 

Poor Nina’s reputation was put upon the rack and 
torn to shreds, the articles were made up of a few grains 
of truth, and from these a thousand falsifications were 
spun from the brain of the sensational news venders. 
One evening paper stated to the effect that Miss Pa- 
lermo was very beautiful, cultured, and intellectual, 
she lived in a large modern mansion, in the fashionable 

and aristocratic neighborhood of West 80 S Street. 

She styled herself Countess, but it was well known and 
so forth. 

The morning of the coroner’s inquest, she picked up a 
paper that Madame Sloan had been reading to glance 
over it’s columns, when she chanced to see her own 
name heading a page; she read it, then rose up pale and 
haggard from her chair, her dark eyes misty with tears. 

“ My blessed Father,” she cried, dropping the paper 
from her hands on the floor, “ I never thought but what 
men had some sense of honor, when it came to telling 
such falsehoods. Do they want to make me out the 
slayer of Delano, and Bertram Arlington my lover?” 

On the morning of the second day the inquest was 
held. Mrs. Delano with her son and daughter was there. 
Nina was gowned in black, it must have been the same 
dress, so indescribable in its make, that she wore the 
night I first saw her on West 80 — S — Street after four 
years, when I could think of nothing she resembled 
more than Juno, in the role of a tragedy queen, all in 
black floating gauze and silk. Upon her head she wore 
a small black bonnet, and a bunch of hothouse white 
peonies nestled on her bosom amidst the soft meshes of 
tulle. Never did I see her look so beautiful, never can 
I forget her face, never. White as a calla lily, her great 
dark eyes in their expression more than usually melan- 
choly, they seemed to burn with pain, and in their sad^ 


286 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


ness lurked the shadow of coming events. Her mein 
was cold, proud, and scorn tinged every feature as she 
sat beside her mother, Madame Sloan, and Gene. I be- 
lieve that in the depths of her heart she felt a relief that 
her persecutor was dead and out of the way, and never 
again would she lay eyes on him. Bertram had worked 
like a Trojan for her, and I was not idle. I went per- 
sonally to the different newspapers to see the managers, 
and show them that every line they printed against the 
Countess Palermo as being the mistress of Delano was 
false. Bertram went to several of the morning papers 
to have them stop their attacks on the Countess and him- 
self, and to wait for further developments to be brought 
out in the trial. 

Bertram had also engaged the best criminal lawyers in 
the city. Old Waite was there, as cold, pitiless, and soul- 
less as ever; the skin of his face like a piece of dried 
orange peel, his tall gaunt figure loomed up over the 
heads of the two other partners of the house. The in- 
quest was hurried through with like all inquests are; 
the witnesses were each in their turn called and gave 
their statement of the shooting, but all were guarded in 
what they said, only so far as would exonerate any one 
present at the tragedy. Oswald de Coute came with his 
bandaged head, came in person, as he was the best wit- 
ness for the defense. Nina came after him; she simply 
stated that she was seated at the table with her back to 
the grand salon, Roscoe Delano was seated opposite to 
her, next to him Mr. De Coute. Delano had risen to 
drink a health to the party about the table; she saw 
nothing, heard nothing, until the shot went whizzing 
past her head, and struck Mr. De Coute, then the other 
two, then she fainted, that was all. Bertram and his 
attorney parried some questions put by the coroner then 
she was dismissed. 

Then the witnesses for the State were called, old 
Waite was the first; he gave a brief statement of Miss 
Palermo, once being in their house, employed as a sales- 
woman about five years before, and of Delano’s charges 
against her and what followed. The same was testified 
to by the other proprietors, then Mrs. Delano was called. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 28/ 


She was a well-meaning woman, rather handsome, but 
of the coarse, florid type; she Wore deep expensive 
mourning. She had suffered so much from her hus- 
band's neglect and ill treatment of herself and children 
that she had nothing in her heart but bitterness and hate 
toward the woman who she thought alienated her hus- 
band's affections from her, although knowing the truth, 
as Nina in her interview with her told her all. Also 
aware that her husband was a bad man, and a libertine, 
she blamed Nina for his death, and she would prosecute 
her to the fullest extent of the law; she would never rest 
until she would either hang or send her to prison for 
life. She stated that while she was not divorced from 
Delano, they had not lived together for nearly three 
years, but he had supported herself and children during 
that time; she blamed Nina Palermo for their separa- 
tion. 

At the close of the inquest, Mrs. Sloan was discharged 
and Nina Palermo was remanded back to prison to be 
held for trial, for being a supposed party to the killing 
of Roscoe Delano. Gene, on hearing this sentence grew 
white to his ears, his eyes blazed, and he jumped to his 
feet trembling from head to foot. I sat like one para- 
lyzed, my heart seeming to still its motion, but I recov- 
ered enough to shake my head at him. Bertram with a 
pale face, rose and went over to where he stood, and 
whispered a few words in his ear. All the color left 
Madame's face, which was already worn and pinched, 
and her form tall, straight and slender as a girl's, seemed 
to have shrunken as she reached over and took Nina's 
hand in her's. 

Nina leaned back in her chair and dropped her eyelids 
as if she were tired of the whole business. Mrs. Lunis 
broke out into a fresh burst of weeping. Poor thing, she 
scarcely did anything else since the morning I brought 
her word of Delano’s death. Nina was taken back to the 
precinct, where she remained until the next day, when 
she was taken to the Jefferson Market jail. She was 
given the best room in the house, and was made as com- 
fortable as money and her friends could make her in a 


288 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


prison. Madame Sloan begged to be allowed to remain 
with her, but she was denied that privilege. 

“ You will go home, with mother and Gene,” said 
Nina, “ and from henceforth whatever befalls me, 
mother’s home will be your home. Now dear mother 
dry your tears, I shall be free in a few days, as soon as 
Bertram, can arrange for my bond.” And she put 
her arms around her mother’s neck. “ Then I will be so 
glad dear sweet mother to go home, with you,” and she 
laid her lovely tired head, on Mrs. Tunis’s shoulder, 
“ Yourself, Madame Sloan, and myself, and Gene, will 
all live together, no more big houses, no more striving 
for the admiration, and eclat, of the world, ah, God, how 
empty it all is, this world, worship, mother. Yes, I will 
be with those I love, and those who have true loving 
hearts, for me. What happiness mother, there is yet in 
store for us, for me mother. Ah, God, what mistakes we 
make.” 

“ Oh, my poor girl, my Nina, surely there must be 
some happiness in the world for you.” And her mother 
kissed her temples, her hair, and pressed her head to 
her bosom. “ It’s not right or just for them to keep you 
here. I could take my oath, that you never harmed a 
hair of that villain Delano’s head. The time has come 
if the law, or court, insists upon keeping you here, I will 
keep my peace no longer, and justice must be done 
you.” 

“ Mother dear, we will have to be patient, go now with 
Madame, and Gene, and Mr. Osgood, and get something 
nice to eat, and have some nice dinner, sent to me. Ber- 
tram, will have all my jewels deposited in De Coute’s bank, 
Mr. Osgood, have the house guarded.” 

“ Yes, it’s in charge of the police now.” 

“ I would like Madame, and mother, to pack all my 
clothes, and have them taken home, then you can sort 
out what I shall need here. Bertram, and Mr. Osgood, 
and Gene, will attend to the house, and see that the 
windows and doors, are locked and barred, and men, set 
to guard it until I can have my paintings, and books, 
and all my art treasures removed.” 

With bleeding hearts, we took leave of her, and I in- 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 289 


vited Gene, and Madame, and his mother, to dinner to 
the nearest restaurant, and ordered the best dinner I 
could think of to be sent to Nina. I did not go back to 
the jail that night, I felt worn out, and my heart, was 
heavy and sore, at the turn of affairs. Gene was right, 
he knew as he said, the temper of the New York people, 
better than I. After dinner, I bid them all good-by, and 
took the cars home. It was nearly eight o’clock in the 
evening, when I reached my room, and I went immedi- 
ately to bed. 

The morning papers, published in full all the state- 
ments of the witnesses, both for the prosecution and the 
defense, it showed that Delano’s two partners, and Mrs. 
Delano, were the prosecution, not the State alone, had it 
been left to the State, it would have been different with 
Nina. Old Waite’s statement, was dwelt upon as one 
rolls a sweet morsel under one’s tongue, and for weeks 
every morning, and evening, long garbled accounts of 
the poor girl’s life, were given to the public. They even 
hinted that Eugene Lunis, would have to give a clear 
account of his whereabouts the night of the killing of 
Delano, as it was well known he was not at home, and 
that he had more than a brother’s regard for his beau- 
tiful adopted sister, and also he was heard to have sworn 
vengeance, against Delano, when she left home. 

Day by day, the papers built up a wall of suspicion, 
which hedged her in and around, and about. The 
weeks went by, and Bertram failed to liberate her on 
bond, he and De Coute, offered an unusually large sum, 
but the court, put them off on the ground of some tech- 
nicality. She was a woman, therefore considered dan- 
gerous. However the State having a poor case was held 
back, by the combined influence of the other side. Ber- 
tram, was looked upon, with suspicion as being Nina’s 
lover, therefore his lawyer advised him to keep in the 
background, all he could, as it would be better for the 
Countess’s case. 

Madame Sloan, went every day, to the prison, bring- 
ing with her a basket of good things, prepared for her 
by her mother, and stayed nearly all day. Mrs. Lunis, 
came later, and she and Madame would then leave for 


290 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


home, towards evening. Gene came as soon as he 
swallowed his supper, and Nina’s pale face, would glad- 
den, with a smile which chased for a while the sadness, 
which had now become habitual to it, and her eyes, 
would brighten with the affection, and love, that leaped 
up from her heart, and shone out from under the long 
lashes, as she rose from her seat holding out both hands 
to him. The evenings spent with her, as they were 
mostly left to themselves, Bertram coming in the after- 
noon, and leaving before Gene arrived, were the sweet- 
est, he had ever known. Sad they were, and painful a 
pain that cut him to the quick, as he thought of the 
wrongs, injustices, and outrages, which had been heaped 
upon her. 

Since the death of Delano, Gene had grown older by 
years, had grown to the full stature of a man, his love 
for his adopted sister, had thrown off all the grosser ele- 
ments, all that savored of carnal passion, and had be- 
come finer, purer, and deeper, and more enduring. The 
tender romantic affection, of the boy, for the little girl, 
as they grew up side by side, day by day, mingled with 
the greater and more protecting love, of the strong man. 
Like the heart of the mother, whose tendrils twine about 
the loved babe, she carries in her arms, and nestles close 
to her bosom. So the man’s heart, in Gene, felt all the 
aches, and pangs, for this adopted sister, whose fate he 
felt was so strangely cruel. 

The eye of the libertine, had rested upon her beauty, 
before she was out of her teens, he desired her, she was 
poor, and who dare say no, she was for him, what if he 
did smirch the lily, that was his privilege, ha, ha. Mor- 
alists, and purest, might talk as they please it was all 
prate, what were they put here for, but for man, ha, ha. 
Don’t the Bible tell us so. 

Yes, the villain, had stripped her by a foul lie, of what 
is most sacred and dear to woman, her good name, and 
woven a net of circumstances about her, until now even 
his death, was laid at her door, and for it she was held 
a prisoner. Well he knew what he would do at the trial, 
she would never go back to prison, no never. He had 
laid his plans before Mr. Arlington and his attorney. 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 2gi 

He was under suspicion as being her confederate, he 
could make use of the fact, that he was away from home 
that evening. Will Jones knew that he was at the work- 
ing man's club, he walked home with him, to the very 
door, but he would keep out of the way, when he knew 
what he was going to do to save Nina. 

If all the circumstances went against her, he would 
give himself up and say, he killed Delano. He would 
leave his mother in her care, Nina had plenty, and she 
would never know but what he killed Delano, to avenge 
her. They would grieve for him, he knew, his mother, 
especially, but when they thought how he died, to save 
her, and to avenge her, it would be a solace, and a com- 
fort, and at the farthest the time would not be long, until 
they would follow him. Yes, he was glad the villain 
Delano, was out of the way, the hand that stayed him, 
conferred a benefit upon humanity, and in his heart, he 
blessed that hand. She should never go to prison, no 
never* 

Bertram, called every afternoon, at the prison, about 
half-past two, staying until after six in the evening. 
They had much to talk about. Every day she showed 
him, some new side of her real character, her quiet proud 
heroism, in this awful trial, astonished him, and set him 
to thinking. Brought up as he was surrounded by 
wealth, and all the refinements, and culture of an old 
family, he had never known women, only as the petted 
darlings of his class. He knew Nina had suffered, and 
was persecuted, and the story of her life, touched him as 
being so exceedingly romantic. The mistress of a great 
house, the daughter, in wedlock, of an old titled noble- 
man but shut out by circumstances over which she had 
no control, from her rightful place in society. And now 
those same circumstances had woven a web about her, 
until it held her a prisoner in its meshes, and the death 
of her persecutor was laid at her door. 

Yet an innocent victim, how sweetly, calmly, bravely, 
she bore all, without a murmur or complaint. Yes, he 
loved her, he had desired her above all other women, 
that he had ever known or seen. He craved for her 
daily, and hourly, he longed to possess her to hold her 


292 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


in his arms, and call her his. While Bertran. was in no 
sense a libertine, while no crime of that kind could be 
laid against him, or had any woman, ever been betrayed 
by him, or was he a sensualist in its grosser sense, 
he had all the desires and strong passions, of a healthy 
young man, of his wealth and position, and he believed 
the seeking and gratification of them was his right and 
privilege. 

But day by day, as he sat by her side, and she began 
to lean more and more upon him, and look to him, for 
help in this great crisis of her life. As she grew whiter, 
and her smile gladdened to a blush which swept over her 
cheek at his coming, and a light shone in the lovely dark 
eyes, which made his heart leap to his throat, the first 
time he saw it. Then Bertram’s love, changed to some- 
thing higher, purer, tenderer, and finer, taking a deeper 
hold upon his heart. The whole man was lifted up, out 
of his grosser self, and ennobled by the heroism of this 
young woman. I do not mean to say that the love he 
bore her, was like the love of Gene. 

Oh, no, the two men were of an entirely different na- 
ture. There was still self, sense, and passion, in Ber- 
tram’s love, but Gene’s was of the soul, the spirit. It 
would have made no difference to him, v/hether she was 
the daughter of a nobleman or a serf, whether she had 
a penny to her name, it was the same to him. She was 
Nina, the companion of his childhood, he did not know 
the day he did not love her, and this love had grown, and 
grown, through all the years the refining process of sor- 
row, and suffering, and trials ; until he was ready to lay 
down his life for her. “ He that saves his life, shall lose 
it, and he that loses his life, shall find it again.” 

I called myself every day, upon Nina, going to the 
prison, an hour or two later than Bertram, I generally 
found him there, and we would leave together. She was 
always pleased to see me considering me one of her near 
friends. She informed me one day, that Gene, had great 
affection for me, and that he had said to her, that 
“ Beverly Osgood was one of the men, it would do to 
bet one’s life on.” I thanked her and said, “ That I 
could return the compliment.” 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 293 

The morning Oswald de Conte was carried home to 
Malmarda, so wounded, he confessed everything to his 
wife, of his past before his marriage, and his liason with 
Mrs. Leroy Johnathan, as we men, generally do when 
our past, and its deeds, return back upon us. It is al- 
ways to the poor wife, deceived, neglected, and to whom 
they have been fickle and false that they turn in dis- 
tress. He told her his suspicions, and who he was 
positive, he had a glimpse of in the Countess’s grand sa- 
lon as he sat playing at cards, in the library. He begged 
her forgiveness, said he was a wretch, and deserved all 
he got. 

The lovely Jeanette, who was in every sense womanly, 
and imbued with the finest of feminine tact, felt that this 
was the turning point, in her husbands’s life, to show a 
disposition to resent his sins ag'ainst her, by a cold un- 
forgiving manner, would be to estrange all their future 
years. He was her husband, the father of her child, she 
must make the best of things, and the best man, she 
could of him. So freely she forgave him, put her arms 
about his neck, where he lay, on the sofa, in their room, 
with his head bandaged. Little Clarise, who was called 
for Clarise Cline, and who was the image of her father, 
seeing that something unusual was going on between 
her parents, quit her play, and toddled up to her father, 
“ Papa, wuss,” she said, looking up gravely at her 
mother. Her father drew her to him, and wound 
his arms, about her, and kissed her, then husband 
and wife and child sealed the new covenant with a kiss. 
De Coute told his wife a good deal about Nina, and said, 
he thought her acquittal in the coming trial, would de- 
pend much upon his testimony. 

He said nothing of the relationship in which Bertram 
held the Countess, only that he was her attorney, and an 
admirer, as they all were. It was left to Bertram, him- 
self, to speak to his sister Jeanette, and tell her the story, 
of Nina, and Delano, and his own part in it, how he first 
met her, and how on longer acquaintance he became 
deeply interested in her, he spoke of his love for her, 
that his life was bound up in hers, and as soon as she 
was acquitted which of course she would be, he hoped 


'94 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


to make her his wife. He begged her to make no 
mention of what he had disclosed to her, to Clarise, at 
present, he requested her to go with him, to visit the 
Countess, indeed he wished her, to accompany him as 
soon as possible. “ I do not feel like a man, or a gentle- 
man, Jeanette,” he said, “ if some of the women of my 
family, do not visit this beautiful, gifted, and wronged 
girl. Of course I can’t speak of this to Maud, or mother, 
they are so cold, and strait-laced.” 

“ Why Bertram, certainly, I shall be only delighted 
after what you have imparted to me, to go with you.” 
And when she spoke of her intention to accompany her 
brother, to the jail, to visit the Countess, to De Coute, 
he said, putting more energy into his words, than she 
had ever known him to do : 

“ Of course, my dea, to be sua, — betta go as soon as 
you can get your hat on.” And she did the following 
morning, after Bertram and herself had the talk about 
the Countess. 

She left Malmarda, about ten o’clock, for New York, 
where she met Bertram, at his office, lunched with him, 
at half -past one, and was at the prison, by half after two. 
Jeanette was completely captured by Nina, and vice versa. 
And this lovely queenly distinguished-looking woman, 
was Bertram’s sister, and Oswald de Coute’s wife, 
thought Nina, as she sat at Jeanette’s side, and Jean- 
ette’s rich, mellow voice, carried the healing balm, of 
sympathy in every word. And Nina, bore up bravely 
all through her visit. They were charmed with each 
other, Jeanette’s tact and delicacy, being fully appre- 
ciated by Nina. 

“ Why Bertram, my brother,” said Jeanette, when they 
reached the pave, “ why haven’t you spoken to me of 
her, before this, what cowards you men, are. She’s 
lovely, divine, she’s unlike any woman I have ever seen, 
what a face, what eyes, and brow. The whole story of 
her life, is written on that broad blue- veined brow, and 
speaks out of those wonderful dark eyes. I never saw 
such eyes, their expression at first glance, made me think 
of a wounded antelope or of one of Moore’s gazelle’s, then 
as I spoke with her they varied in soulful intelligence. 


OR, WHEN tHE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 295 


You men can’t see farther than your noses, you are all 
sense, can’t grasp anything ; or you would have told me 
all about her before this, I could have been such a friend 
to her, I will be now. Oh, how awful to keep her in 
that jail, Delano was a monster, a horrid monster.” 

“ Tell Clarise, why not ? Of course I shall tell Clarise, 
all about her, there’s where you men are moral cowards, 
again, blind and vain. Do you think, that women, who 
live on the plane of myself, and Clarise, have any room, 
lor petty mean jealousies in our hearts, oh, Bertram, how 
little you know Clarise. Do you think that you are de- 
ceiving her, not at all, believe me she would only be 
glad to tender kindness to any one who you would care 
for.” So she rattled on to her brother, until he seated 
her, in the railroad carriage for home, and bid her good- 
by. She told him, she would be in New York again, in 
a few days to visit the Countess. 

I called upon Madame Deveraux, and related to her 
Nina’s whole story, leaving nothing .out. My Lady, sat 
and listened, with deep interest, at times she turned 
pale, and the long dark lashes of her soulful eyes, dipped 
in the tears, they refused to shed, and made misty the 
heavenly light, which shone in them. When I finished 
my recount, she rose up, and began pacing the floor, for 
a while she walked in silence, then crossed her arms, 
over her bosom, a habit with her. 

“ My Heavenly Father,” she cried, “ will the old Jewish 
law, be ever eradicated from men’s hearts? The cry to 
stone women, still goes on. When Christ, struck the 
shackles from the wrists, of the adulterous woman, and 
the chains from her feet, by the words : ‘ He that be 
without sin first cast a stone at her,’ He made all 
women free, and for eighteen hundred years, she has 
been fighting old laws, old prejudices, which enslave her, 
and the men, go on stoning her, and we go on beating 
our heads, against the stone walls of their hearts, for 
freedom, freedom to do, to act, to have some voice in 
the law, they demand of us to keep. Shall they ever think 
of us, but as their prey, beings to torture, to crush, to 
stone, if we do not submit to their will. I thank thee 
blessed Lord Christ, that I am free in thee, which is to 


296 


BEVERLY OSGOOD J 


be free indeed. Perhaps dear,” she said, seating her- 
self, again, “ this is the price your lovely friend is to pay 
for freedom. Yes gladly and willingly, will I go with 
yon on the morrow to visit this noble girl. 

And on the morning we went to the prison I was to 
meet my Lady at the home, and we were to go from 
there. I had spoken several times to Nina of my frier, d 
Madame Deveranx, a woman of great prominence, posi- 
tion and wealth, who left all to follow in the walks cf 
the Master. I had also asked her permission a few days 
before to fetch her to visit her, and she gladly gave her 
consent. 

Never shall I forget the meeting between these two 
women. My Lady as she entered the door of Nina’s cell, 
stretched out her arms, Nina rose and stood a second, 
gazing in wonder upon my Lady’s face, then laid her 
hand upon her heart. 

“ Ah, dear God,” she cried, “ you know how it hurts 
here, how I have suffered, how I suffer, how I have been 
humbled, humiliated, into the very mud of the earth.” 

She staggered toward her, then stopped, and covered 
her face with her hands, and burst into weeping, the 
first tears she had shed since the night of her meeting 
with Gene, after four years. 

My Lady took her in her arms, and laid her head on 
her bosom, a bosom where beat the loving Christ-heart, 
and she let Nina weep her fill. 

“ Ah, dear child,” she said, caressingly, “ tnese tears 
are just the thing for your poor burning eyes and parched 
heart. Has no one spoken or hinted at what you needed 
most? Perhaps I am the physician who will apply the 
right medicine. After Nina had wept her fill, my Lady 
took her handkerchief and dried her eyes, led her to a 
chair and seated herself beside her. Gradually and 
gently she administered food to the girl’s starved heart; 
sweetly she spoke of things that were strange and new, 
not new, but old as the hills, old as eternity. Nina’s 
quick understanding caught and grasped their meaning, 
for she was soul hungry. 

And Nina listened with open eyes and ears, until she 
forgot herself, her suffering, her prison cell, the world, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE 

and the things of the world. And the color came to her 
cheeks, and the light to her eyes, the reflected light of 
my Lady’s. 

“ As the apostle Paul said to the Greeks,” continued 
Madame Deveraux, “ ‘ A more excellent way, I show 
unto thee.’ This way brings sweet peace, a peace un- 
dreamed of, rest and joy to mind and heart. A way that 
these prison walls will be as no barrier to your freedom. 
You are here by no act of yours, and you will be out 
soon, I hope. This way is also power, you have sought 
and tasted of what the material world has to give, you 
And that with all your triumps, all is vanity and vexation 
of spirit. 

“ I speak to you of this way, because I see you have 
a receptive mind, you possess intelligence of a high 
order. You are paying the price here in this prison cell, 
and through this you can enter in, but you must seek 
,the door, there is but one door, and that Christ Jesus. 
Then peace, rest, joy, happiness, and power, untold will 
be yours. But you must pray, throw off the old worn 
garments, the filthy rags which we cling so to, ‘ The old 
symbols,’ as Carlyle says, ‘ which have long ago become 
useless, and meaningless. Old rubbish, that men burden 
their own and other men’s backs with, and hinder their 
coming into the truths, the light of God, truth and 
liberty.’ ” 

As she grew eloquent, Nina’s eyes grew wider and 
more luminous, she drank in the older woman’s words 
like a man, who after a long walk of miles on a dusty 
road of a summer’s day, he comes to a cool running 
stream, and he quenches his thirst with the waters 
thereof. They were bread to her hungry heart, and 
water to her thirsty soul. 

“ You are but a babe yet, dear child, you will bear no 
more now.” 

“ Oh, yes,” cried Nina, “ talk on, I can listen to you 
all day. What you say is new, and so beautiful and true. 
Not so new either, for I have felt something like what 
you have spoken of in my soul, just but a feeble flutter- 
ing spark, trying to break through the hard layers of 
materialism which crusts it over. I am so delighted 


298 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


dear Lady ** (Nina called her Lady), “ that Mr. Osgood 
hrought you; I never had much religion, never pre- 
tended to much, I was reared in the Roman Catholic 
faith, but never lived up to it.’’ 

“ Dear, don’t mistake me, I love the churches, what- 
ever church in which you think you can best serve God, 
the Father, and His Son the blessed Lord Christ, go to 
that church. The way I speak of is personal, a more 
excellent way, but few seek to find and understand it, 
few reach it. The Saviour said, ‘ I tell you the truth, 
and the truth shall make you free.’ ” 

“ I would like you to come again, dear Lady,” said 
Nina, “ I wish to hear more of these truths, teach me, I 
so long to find peace. You have rested me already, 
soothed and comforted me, and given me hope ; I feel as 
if I would sleep to-night. I haven’t slept since the night 
of the awful tragedy at my house.” 

“ Poor child, put that out of your mind, think of it 
only as an invisible law, but an inexorable one, which 
pursued that man until he paid the penalty of his crimes. 
The law of the State did not reach him, or punish him, 
but the law of the universe, and the moral law of God 
did. Put him from you, put him out of your life ; seek 
forgetfulness of the old in the new. Dear child, the day 
will come in the light and joy of the spiritual, the mem- 
ory of this man shall be blotted out of your existence, 
as though he had never been. Now let us kneel in 
prayer.” 

And Nina, Countess Palermo, the proud queen of the 
gay world, bent her knee in prayer, the first time since a 
child, when she knelt at her mother’s knee and lisped 
the Lord’s prayer. Never did I hear such a prayer as 
Madame poured forth, never shall I forget it until I part 
with my last breath. Her wonderful voice rang out in 
clear, flute-like swells, which seemed to float up, and 
down, and about, and fill her cell with a musical rhythm 
of tones. 

Nina fell upon her face and wept. I shook like a leaf 
in a storm, but my Lady prayed on. She prayed that 
Christ the Lord would awaken the dead soul in this 
child, in this beautiful young woman, that she would 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 299 


throw off the garments of flesh, though they were of the 
most costly of earth’s fabrics, they were after all but 
rags, old worn rags, and clothe her anew with sight, and 
life, a living soul. For in you dear Lord there is light, 
life, grace, sweetness, happiness, and love. Your truths 
are high as the heavens, broad as the universe, and their 
depths no man can fathom 

When we rose from our knees we all felt better, and 
when we came to take our leave, Nina hung about my 
Lady’s neck, begging her to come again, and thus two 
souls, in a reciprocal affection were drawn together, both 
having the same components, but one developed and the 
other undeveloped. And thus a friendship was sealed 
which lasted until one of them crossed over to the 
border land, to the unseen shore. As we passed through 
the public hall of the prison, we met two police officers. 
“ By the buttons on your coat, Hollern,” said one of 
them, “ there’s that Madam Deveraux. I bet she’s after 
the soul of that Countess, Mr. Delano’s swell mistress.” 

“ Hish-s-s,” whispered the other who was the older of 
two, “ sure it’s behind the bars the same Madame ought 
to be, sure she’s demented herself running after them 
weman.” 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE TRIAL. 

October, with its golden days, deep blue skies, silvery 
clouds, floating in thin veils of mist, days when the trees 
in the parks turned their sear, and yellow leaves, to be 
kissed by cool soft winds, that came up from the sea, 
laden with the fragrance of harvest grains, ripe fruits, 
from farms, orchards, and vineyards. The Hudson flowed 
on, between banks, hills, and mountains, of brown and 
russet, and deep ravines where purple shadows lurked. 


300 BEVERLY OSGOOD J 

White sails glided up and down its surface, and gf^at 
steamers, and ships from all countries and climes, came 
up from the wide ocean, and anchored in the Bay. And 
Nature so old, yet ever so young, went on in its quiet, 
silent lovliness, decking itself in garments beautiful, 
and taking no heed of man, his passions, strifes, and 
ambitions. 

But the great Babylon by the sea, with its teeming 
material life, swept hither and thither, north and south, 
east and west. “ The great whore that sitteth upon 
many waters, with whom the kings of the earth, have 
committed fornication, and the inhabitants of the earth, 
have been made drunk with the wine of her fornication.” 
Revelation, Chapter XVII, verse 2. The Sodom and 
Gomorrah of the western hemisphere. As the month 
drew to a close and each day, brought us nearer the presi- 
dential election, until at last the thirtieth of October, 
came and went, a day never to be forgotten by me. The 
streets, in the whole vast city, hung with the stars and 
stripes. They floated on the tops of high buildings, up 
in the sunlight; they floated from the schoolhouses, 
church spires, steamers, and great ships, which anchored 
in the Bay. I strained my eyes, until weary, trying to 
make out that strange bird, which wrapped its great 
wings about the dear old flag, emblem of liberty, the free 
and the brave, until it hides the red, white and blue. 
That bird is no eagle; no man ever carried that yellow 
thing in the war of independence, or in the civil war, 
or did its pinions ever wave in the breeze for man’s in- 
dependence, or in the smoke and Are of battle. Its color 
means hate, strife, jealousy, and tyranny. Oh, my 
country, the nearest, and dearest, to my heart, have 
fought and died, for that flag. The dear older brother, 
twenty years older, with whom I played when a child, 
laid down his life carrying the stars and stripes, after 
Sherman, at the battle of Shiloh. I turned my aching 
eyes away, for my heart is sick, so sick at the sight of 
that yellow bird, knowing it to be the death-blow to 
men’s liberty. I would rather see that old flag trailed 
in the dust of the streets, than that any political party, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 30I: 


should smirch its meaning, and purity, with an emblem 
of their creed. 

The presidential election came and went, and the man 
at Canton went in, no one doubted it that had eyes to 
see. November with its cool, soft, hazy Indian summer, 
drifted to the shorter days of December before Nina 
was brought to trial, and then it was only by the com- 
bined efforts of Bertram, his father, Oswald de Coute, 
and his father, Madame Deveraux, and a few of the 
most prominent families of New York, friends of hers. 

The morning of the trial arrived at last ; the day was 
cold and cloudy, but dry, no snow had yet fallen. The 
courtroom was packed with people, not in the habit of 
visiting courtrooms, out of idle curiosity, but the most 
aristocratic in the State. It was true, all wanted to get 
a glimpse of the beautiful Countess, but hundreds of 
men, and women, had to be turned away, and no one 
admitted except those having tickets. The jury were 
all picked men, holding good positions in the city. The 
judge was a noted criminal lawyer, before his admission 
to the judiciary bench. 

All the men, with myself, who were present at the 
shooting of R oscoe Delano, were on time, and took their 
seats on the witness-stand in the front row, not leaving 
Sam the butler out. Madame Deveraux, Mrs. Marstan, 
the lovely Jeanette, and her mother, who rose to the oc- 
casion through love of her son, and her daughter’s influ- 
ence. Then came Nina, with the sheriff walking beside 
her, and accompanied by her mother. Gene, and Madame 
Sloan, and behind them was Ann Simms, the house- 
keeper, and with her a young woman, another domestic 
in the employ of the Countess, and last of all, Miranda, 
the colored cook. A dead silence fell over the court- 
room, every whisper ceased, every voice was hushed, 
and every eye turned upon Nina, as she came in cold, 
proud, and queenly, wrapped in costly seal furs, and took 
her seat among her friends and witnesses. 

She wore the same black trailing robe she wore the 
day of the inquest, and the little black bonnet. When 
she unfastened and threw back her mantle, it showed a 
bunch of hothouse lilies, pinned in the bosom of her 


302 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


corsage. She had not been well for weeks, a deeper sad- 
ness rested upon her face, so white that it vied with the 
lilies on her bosom, and expressed itself in every line 
of her features. In the white noble brow, in the great 
eyes, which looked like deep dark wells, and the blue 
shadows, underneath them. Yet she was never more 
beautiful, a new life had awakened in her, a new secret 
had been revealed to her heart, a hidden joy, never be- 
fore known, nestled like a dove in her breast. The di- 
vine spirit had touched her soul, and shone in the won- 
derful light in her eyes. 

Madame Sloan, under her mantle of fur, wore black; 
her fair, delicate face, looking pinched and worn. Mrs. 
Lunis, during the weeks of Nina’s imprisonment, 
had grown thin, her cheeks had lost their color, and 
her bright blue eyes had become dim from weeping, 
looked really handsome in a new black gown and bonnet, 
and an Astrakhan fur mantle. Gene held his own with 
the rest of the gentlemen present ; he wore a black suit, 
fitting him well, and his linen was immaculate. Nina 
had no reason to be ashamed of her adopted mother and 
brother. Frank Boyington’s eyes took in Gene’s whole 
make-up, but with the best of feeling. He pitted him- 
self against Gene. Gene did not belong to swelldom, 
that was sure, that is to say, he thought he was not just 
his class, and a big city like New York, draws the class 
line of men and women, but for all, he was a fine, hand- 
some, manly-looking fellow. 

To my left was seated Mrs. Delano, with her counsel, 
old Waite, and the two partners of the house, and sev- 
eral other ladies. Her widow’s weeds toned down some- 
what her usual floridity, but her face wore a hard, unre- 
lenting expression, mingled with eruelty, as only a woman 
can be cruel, and as she sat there, she was Nina’s impla- 
cable foe. In her heart, she despised her husband; for 
years, he had tortured, and neglected her, but woman- 
like, she hated his victims, more than she did him. And 
now she watched Nina with jealous eyes, and only saw 
in her, a bad, designing woman, who had alienated and 
stolen her husband’s love. She would punish her, yes, 
she would see her hang; nothing would make her believe, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 303 

but that she fired the shot, which killed Delano. She 
had gotten all the money she wanted out of him, that 
was his only redeeming trait, his lavishness of money. 
She wished to rid herself of him, so that she could marry 
Bertram Arlington. This was the substance of her 
thoughts, and what she had all along given to her coun- 
sel, to the press, and her friends, and all with whom she 
spoke during the weeks that intervened between the 
coroner’s inquest and the trial. 

The first witness called was Chester Harding. He 
stated his name, age, residence and profession. “ I have 
had the honor,” he began in a quiet, manly voice, that 
was pleasant to the ear, “ on several occasions to be the 
guest of the Countess Palermo. On the night of the 
unhappy occurrence, which was the first of her ‘ At 
Homes,’ given after her return from Long Branch, we 
had been playing whist in the library. The Countess 
did not play, but sat awhile watching the game, then 
rose and seated herself at the piano, where she executed 
some charming sonatas. Then she took up her violin, 
and gave us two or three fine solos, while we played sev- 
eral games. At the conclusion of the third or fourth 
game, we rose at Madame Sloan’s request, and went 
into the grand salon, while the butler laid the cloth in 
the library. 

“ Isn’t it customary on occasions of that kind, to have 
the spread in the dining-room ?” asked the lawyer for 
the State. 

“ I believe such things are governed by the taste of 
the hostess,” answered Harding, quickly. “Continue 
your statement, Mr. Harding,” said the counsel for the 
defence. 

“ In a short while the guests were called back to the 
library, where we all took the same seats around the 
table, we occupied at cards, the Countess seating herself 
betv/een Mr. Arlington and Mr. Osgood. We hadn’t 
been seated more than ten minutes, when I heard the 
front door open, and in a few seconds Mr. Roscoe 
Delano came into the library. I was not in the least 
surprised to see Mr. Delano enter the Countess’s house, 
in that unceremonious manner, for on every occasion 


304 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


that it was my pleasure to be present at Miss Palermo’s 
‘ At Homes ’ he came in without asking leave, or license, 
and about the same hour, leaving often before the com- 
pany dispersed. 

“ The Countess’s friends seemed to pay little heed to 
his coming and going, in that way, thinking it simply an 
eccentricity of the man. Mr. Delano was seated by the 
butler, at the upper end of the table, between Mr. de 
Coute and Chauncy Willis, the artist. I was seated at 
the lower end of the table, facing Delano, and with my 
back to the door leading into the hall. I could not see 
into the grand salon. Mr. Delano had been sipping a 
dish of ice cream, when he called to the butler to fill his 
glass again, which he did. Mr. Delano then rose to drink 
the health of the company, and as he did he held up his 
glass. I saw nothing, heard nothing, no noise or foot- 
steps, but quicker than thought, a fiash, a bang, a whiss- 
ss-ss, and three shots were fired in succession, and Mr. 
Delano fell dead, shot to the heart, one of the shots 
wounding Mr. de Coute. The Countess Palermo never 
left her chair, from the time she first took her seat at 
the supper table, where she sat with her back to the 
grand salon, where the shots came from that killed Roscoe 
Delano. I saw her lying, when the smoke cleared away, 
on the floor of the library, in a dead swoon. The com- 
pany were all gentlemen, they are all present in the court- 
room, the ladies were the Countess herself, and Madame 
Sloan, her companion, who was seated to my left at the 
foot of the table, and the servants of the Countess’s 
household. No one in that room, or inmate of the 
house, had anything to do with the killing of Roscoe 
Delano, or desired to harm him in the least.” 

The attorneys on both sides, put Mr. Harding through 
a siege of cross-questioning, which but weakened the 
prosecution. Nina smiled her approval on Chester Hard- 
ing, as he left the stand and took his seat. Frank Boying- 
ton was next summoned; he gave his name, age, place 
of birth, his own and his father’s occupation. He stated 
in substance what Harding had, only he was more impul- 
sive, and passionate in his utterance, eager to impress 
judge, and jurors, of Nina’s innocence. Therefore he 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 30$ 


got himself tangled up once or twice, hut he was quick 
as lightning to cut himself loose, and not stopping to un- 
ravel, he picked up the thread he dropped and went on. 
He told the whole story from beginning to end. The 
usual cross-examination followed, and Frank Boyington 
was dismissed. 

Morrison Siles was the next witnesss. All heads 
were craned, as his tall, distinguished figure, with 
its artistic personality, rose and took his place on the 
witness stand. He stated that he was a native of New 
York State, and an artist by profession. He had known 
the Countess Nina Palermo, nearly three years. She 
first called at his studio on his reception day, as was 
customary for ladies of the highest social position. When 
she made her first call, she was then living in apartments. 

No. West Street. Later she moved to her 

residence West 80 — S — Street. “During my acquaintance 
with her, I have never seen anything in her house, or 
conduct, but that of the most refined, delicate, and vir- 
tuous woman, and I have the entree socially, to some 
of the best houses, in this city. I consider Nina, Count- 
ess Palermo exceptional in her conduct for a lady of her 
wealth, rank, youth, and beauty. I know a cloud hangs 
over her young life, but I believe, in fact I know her 
to have been and to still be a persecuted woman, and she 
had borne her wrongs, and persecutions, with a heroism, 
which only a woman of unusual and exceptional delicacy 
aPxd character can.” Then he related what the others 
had, only in a more concise form. “ The Countess 
Palermo sat at my right,” he continued, “between Mr. 
Arlington, and Mr. Osgood, when the assassin’s bullet 
struck Mr. Roscoe Delano, and I would as soon think of 
my own mother having anything to do with the killing 
of Delano, as I would the Countess Palermo.” 

After a severe cross-questioning by the State’attorney, 
that he was fully equal to, and which helped Nina’s case 
wonderfully with the Court and jurors, he was dismissed. 
Nina’s eyes were filled with tears, as she looked up in 
Morrison Giles’s face and thanked him with a smile, that 
stirred his heart to the core with sympathy. He took 
his seat. 


3o6 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


Chauncy Willis was then summoned, his statement 
was the same, as Morrison Siles’s but not so effective. 
After a short cross-examination he was dismissed, ard 
Madame Sloan was led to the witness-box. Her tall, 
slim figure, her ladylike appearance, and the whole en- 
semble of her attire attracted all eyes. She was very 
pale, as she stated to the Court and jury, in a cool, clear 
voice, her name, age, and that she was a native of the 
State of New Jersey, but had spent the greater portion 
of her days in New York City. She had seen the seamy 
side of life, she told them, and its sunny, also. She had 
met with a great many reverses and ups and downs, 
since her widowhood. 

She had always been desirous of bettering her con- 
dition; as things grew worse with her, she had kept a 
strict watch over the columns of the daily papers, think- 
ing she would run across something that would be suit- 
able to her age, and capacity, such as a governess to 
children, or a companion to a young lady. Her search 
was at last rewarded, by seeing the Countess’s adver- 
tisement in the Tribune and World. She related then 
her calling on Nina, and her engagement to come the 
following morning. “ And I left her charmed and glad 
in my heart, that I had found a home, and so pleased, 
with my young charge. 

“ And from that day to this,” she went on in a voice 
broken with emotion, “ which is over two years, although 
a dependent, for I was very poor, at the time I saw her 
advertisement in the Tribune, I am of good family, I 
know what it is to have plenty of this world’s goods, 
and to enjoy social position, no daughter could be better 
to me than she. She has crept into my heart, gentle- 
men,” here the dear woman broke down and wept. Mrs. 
Lunis wept, and the tears stood in Gene’s eyes, Bertram 
bowed his head, to hide his emotion, and I followed 
suit, and one could have heard a pin drop in the audi- 
ence. “Yes, gentlemen, of the jury,” she continued, 
wiping her eyes, “she has crept into my heart until I 
could lay down my life for her. I am acquainted with 
her whole history as she is with mine; I know how she 
has suffered, how she has been persecuted by Delano, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 307 


how patiently she has borne everything, not wishing to 
bring her name before the public in a scandal. 

“Didn’t Mr. Delano make the Countess’s residence 
his home ?” asked the counsel for the prosecution. 

The counsel for the defense jumped to his feet, and 
said the question was irrelevent, but the Court allowed it. 

“ I mean didn’t he consider it his home, didn’t he 
have his room there, and sleep there occasionally ?” 

“ There was plenty of room in the Countess’s resi- 
dence, to accomodate several persons at a time, if the 
Countess chose to have them remain over night. But 
never to my knowledge, and I was the last to retire, as 
the Countess left the closing of the house to me, and my 
room was next to hers, Mr. Delano never remained in 
the house over night, nor was he ever admitted any 
farther than the library, dining-room, and the drawing- 
room. But he came every evening, as the witnesses 
before me stated, and the gentlemen present at the re- 
ception the night of the tragedy, all knew his way of 
coming and going. 

“The truth is he was madly, insanely in love with 
the Countess; she is the only woman, of his many vic- 
tims, who thwarted him in his%ishes. Her intelligence, 
intellect, and natural purity of character, met his baser 
passions at every step, and it crazed him with a sort of 
despairing jealousy. He was a bad man, and I often 
thought more likely to have killed her, than she him. 
I have heard the Countess beg and plead with him, to 
leave her, to put her from his mind, or any thought of 
his ever gaining her affection, and go home to his family. 
That he had wronged, and persecuted her enough, but 
he wouldn’t, and now this awful tragedy, this man’s 
death, to be laid at her door; it’s cruel, it’s horrible, it’s 
not true,” she cried, her pale cheeks flushing, her iDlue 
eyes, seeming to emit sparks of flame, and her tall, spare 
figure, shook with the emotion, she could not control. 

“ The idea that she ever hurt, or planned to hurt, 
Roscoe Delano, is absurd, opposed to the girl’s whole 
nature. These gentlemen here,’’ and she swept her thin, 
white hand, in the direction of where we all were seated, 
were the only frequenters of her house, and she could 


3o8 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


not plan with them. She had no lady friends, but her 
adopted mother, and myself, and the women servants 
of her household. That vile man, cast a dark blur on 
her youth, which debarred her from the social place 
which is rightfully hers, but God is good. He has raised 
up friends of her own station to her.” 

Then she gave her version of the evening’s happen- 
ings, which accorded with the other witnesses, and after 
a brief questioning by both counsels, she took her seat. 

Samson, the butler, was the next. Sam was a dark 
copper-color, of medium height, well-formed, and was 
dressed within an inch of his life. His linen vied with 
any gentleman present, in the whiteness and polish of 
its cuffs, collar, and ample display of shirt-front. He 
stated his age, thirty years, that he was born in Nash- 
ville, Tenn., his father and mother, had been slaves, he 
had lived in New York City, for twelve years, and his 
occupation was that of butler. 

“ Ise lived six yares wid Mista Kearns, befo’ his family 
went to Eu’op’. Ise ben two yares wid Madame de 
Countess Palermo, yes sah.” Then in his own original 
way, he recounted the killing of Delano. 

“Yes, sah, Ise knows Mista Roscoe Delano, he comes 
ebery night, to Madame de Countess’s house, Ise seed 
him ebery time ’cepten my two evenings off, den Mrs. 
Simms de housekeeper, tended to de doa, yes sah. Mista 
Delano, he felt his se’f privleged, he opened de doa, 
wid his latch-key, an’ he come in wid a great blast, a 
swingin’ de heavy front doa to. Ise alway heered him, 
when he come, but mos’ ob de time, de latch didn’t 
catch. Some ob de time he went back when he hung 
up his hat, an’ shet de doa, befo’ goin’ into de library, 
or de drawing-room. 

“ My ordas was dat if Mistiss was not down sta’s to 
show him into de library, I mos’ alway went afta him, 
to de front doa, to see if it was shet, ebery little while 
or so, Ise fin’ de latch not catched, yes, sah. De night ob 
Madame de Countesses ‘ At Home,’ I fo’got to go to de 
doa, afta Mista Delano came. Ise can’t say as Ise fog’ot 
so much, as Ise was so busy waitin’ on de gentlemen. 

“ Afta de shootin’, Ise ran f rough de salon pala, to de 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 3O9 


front doa, an’ gentlemen ob de jury, it was unlatched 
an’ ajar about de width ob my han’,” and he held up his 
hand to the jury. “ As suah as Ise liben, yes sah. Ise 
ran into de hall, an’ down de steps ob de basement hall, 
an’ tried de front doa, dar, but it was locked. Ise ran 
into de dinin’-room, no one dar, Ise was jes’ makin’ fo’ 
de kitchen when Miranda, de cook, came screamin’ out, 
her face de whitest ob any nigga’s can git, an’ dat’s jes’ 
like ashes. ‘ Fo’ de love ob God, Sam,’ she cried, ‘ who’s 
ye’s ben a-killen upstai’s.’ As Ise turned to go upstai’s 
agin Ise met Mista Osgood, one ob de gentlemen ob de 
party, he was as white as a sheet. He asked me if Ise 
seed any one, or found anything. I say, ‘ no, sah,’ an’ 
when we went back to de library, Mista Delano was 
dead, an’ Mr. de Coute, was bleedin’ f’om a wound in 
his head. 

“ Ise ben de watchdog ob dat house, an’ seed all dat 
went on in it, yes sah, ye’s can’t fool Sam Johnson, in 
a gentleman an’ a lady, no sah. Ise no libe twelve yares 
in New Yawk City fo’ nothin’, an’ six yares in a gentle- 
man’s house like Mista Kearns, whar Ise seed all de 
high-toned white folks ob New Yawk. Yes, sah, my 
mistiss, Madame de Countess, she a lady, she too good 
a woman, to hurt Mista Delano, or hab him hurt, neber 
did she do it, no sah, neber, Ise sware it a thousand 
times on de good book.” 

After Sam’s cross-examination, the court adjourned 
for that day. It was not until the following morning, 
when the court convened, that Oswald de Conte’s testi- 
mony was given. We were all in our places as on the 
first day of the trial. De Coute looked paler than his 
wont, when he took the witness stand, but I had not 
seen him, since the day of the coroner’s inquest. The 
wound, on his temple had healed, leaving a slight scar, 
that his physician said, would disappear in the course 
of five or six months. He was as handsome and elegant 
as ever; he gave his name, age, place of birth, his present 

residence, his occupation, cashier of the bank of , 

his father’s bank. 

“ I was at the Countess Palermo’s house the night of 
the killing of Roscoe Delano,” he began in his cool, lazy 


310 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


drawl. “ I was introduced to her nearly two years be- 
fore, by my brother-in-law, Bertram Arlington, her at- 
torney. I had accompanied my brother-in-law several 
times to her ‘ At Homes,’ which I consider, gentlemen, 
as pleasant and recherche^ as any small gatherings given 
in the city of New Yawk. We had not been seated long 
at suppa,” he said, in his charming accent, “not more 
than ten or fifteen minutes, when Mr. Delano, who was 
seated at my right, and facing the Countess, rose to drink 
a health, he being a man of convivial habits. 

“ The Countess was seated with her back to the grand 
salon, I sat opposite to her, and could see into the grand 
salon, clear to its windows, which fronted the street, that 
is of course in a straight line. The hangings and drapery 
hid much from my view, and from my position, at the 
table, I could not see any one enter the salon, from the 
hall. Once or twice I thought I saw the shadow of a 
woman gliding behind the hangings, also her drapery, 
but thinking it some of the maids, who stole in to take 
a peep at the company, as maids often do, I paid no fur- 
ther attention. I happened to be a little hungry that 
night, and the butler Sam, who possesses all the geniality 
of his race, and is as courteous as a king, had a few 
moments before helped me to a dish of escalloped oysters, 
which I am very fond of, and was busily eating when 
Delano rose. I then raised my head, and saw distinctly 
a woman, leaning half-way from behind the silken dra- 
pery, which was partially wound about one of the pillars, 
and hung half loose from the middle of the pillars, which 
separated the grand salon, from the library. The drapery 
had caught in the hood of her long black cloak which 
was wrapped about her, brushing it back from her face, 
and for a second giving me a glimpse of her profile. 

“ Instantaneously, before I had time to think or to act, 
the hood was drawn over her face, and a white hand 
was raised and a pistol suddenly fired. I dipped my 
head, the shot struck me, just grazing my temple, making 
a flesh-wound,” he brushed back the hair from his fore- 
head, so the jurors could have a better view of the scar. 
“ The other two shots, which came in quick succession, 
struck Delano, and when the smoke cleared away, I 


OR, WHEN tHE OREAt CITY IS AWAKE. 311 


raised my head, I was bleeding profusely, and Delano 
was dead, shot to the heart.” 

A silence like that of death, fell over the whole audi- 
ence, the jurors stared with open eyes, and open mouths. 
Jeanette and her mother looked at Bertram, who had 
leaned over to hear every word, thinking his ears had 
tricked him, in some way, for Oswald had never men- 
tloiied that part of seeing the woman to him. He had 
however, to his wife, the day he was brought home 
wounded, and made his confession to her. Madame 
Deveraux’s beautiful eyes, shone full of the light of 
rejoicing, as she rested them on Nina, who sat with 
folded hands, as if transfixed, her face, like the marble 
Venus of Milo’s, with large, hollow eyes, showing sur- 
prise and wonder. I turned my glance in the direction 
where Mrs. Delano and her company were seated. All 
the color had fled from Mrs. Delano’s cheek, her face 
had aged, but there was no softening in its hard, relent- 
less expression. Old Waite was a tallow color, and his 
small gray eyes, shone with a cynical malignant fierce- 
ness. The other two men, sat stolid and indifferent to 
all that went on. 

“Your Honor, and gentlemen of the jury,” resumed 
De Coute, “those shots were intended for me, not for 
Roscoe Delano. I recognized the woman’s face, and as 
I caught her eye, it unnerved her for a moment, she saw 
that she was detected, and missed her aim. And I wish 
to make a little confession here to the Court, for the sake 
of justice ; the wrong I did that woman, was long ago in 
my youth, but the wrong was not sufficient for her to 
have attempted my life. She neither lost her good name, 
wealth, nor social position by it.” Here the counsel for 
the prosecution asked him to tell the name of the woman. 

“ Never,” he answered, “ if she ever attempts my life 
again, which I hardly think she will, as I learned she has 
left the country, I shall then bring her to justice. Now 
she must have entered by the front door, and escaped by 
it, as the butler testified he found it open.” 

After a more severe cross-examination than any other 
of the witnesses, he was dismissed. As he turned 
to leave the stand, the whole audience, the courtroom 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


being more densely crowded than the day before, rose 
en mass^ and cheer after cheer, went up, and it was some 
time before the sheriff and the sergeant-at-arms, could 
restore order. 

I glanced over at Gene, the whole expression of his 
face was changed from the set, rigid, haggard look, it 
had worn since the tragedy, to the old brightness and 
happy expression of other days. I had hoped to be 
called, and I intended to give the whole story, as I knew 
it, and was eyewitness to it, from the day I first rented 
the little parlor in Mrs. Lunis’s apartments, until the 
shooting of Delano, but it seemed to be the policy of 
Nina’s attorney not to summons Bertram or myself, until 
he saw how the case went, he would keep me in reserve 
for rebuttal. So the next one called was the prisoner, 
Nina, Countess Palermo, who had requested that she 
should be allowed to testify in her own behalf. 

There was a rustle, a swish, a rustling, and rushing 
sound, all over that large audience, as she rose in her 
tall straight Venus-like beauty, and took her place in 
the witness-box. Then a silence fell over the court- 
room, a silence so great that one would think, not a 
breath was drawn, in that whole assembly of people. 
Her seal fur mantle hung half-way down her back, dis- 
playing her magnificent shoulders, and that wonderful 
black dress, with.its tulle chiffon, silk and lace .Her face, 
well, I have written so much of it, that all I can say, 
this morning, it was the great dark eyes, that burned 
now with a new flame under the broad, low brow, white 
as Carrara marble. 

She gave her name, her age, the suburban town near 
New York, where she was born, her father, and mother’s 
name, and a short history already told in these pages cf 
her father. Count Leanto Palermo, an exile in this coun- 
try. And up to where she herself, entered the large 
dry-goods firm, where Delano was head manager of the 
floor she was on. “ Had my own mother,” she said, 
“ or my adopted mother known the importance of the 
papers left by my father, for his only child, I need never 
have entered that house, as a salesgirl.” She spoke 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE 31^ 


clearly and distinctly, her rich, mellow voice, reaching to 
every corner of the courtroom. 

“ It was in this large department house,” she con- 
tinued, untying the strings of her bonnet, “that my 
first lessons of the world, were learned. Here was a 
school of ethics, for the young woman, which sooner 
or later, is the death-clutch to all her romance, her high 
ideals, if she had any. It is a school,” she went on, the 
color stealing into her cheek, “that if a girl has the 
strength to keep clear of the pitfalls and ditches, and 
look on and learn her lesson, she is the better able to 
fight the battles of life. But even the naturally virtuous- 
loving, are forced into the ditches, or to starve. I had 
been nearly three years in that house; I had been pro- 
moted several times, and my salary raised, not particu- 
larly by Mr. Delano, there were other managers under 
him ; he might have been instrumental in my promotion, 
I know not. 

“ My first year there, I saw little of Delano; it was 
the second year, when I was sent to a counter on the 
north side of the floor, that I began to meet Mr. Delano 
daily, and once or twice a day. The last year, I was 
given a counter nearer where Mr. Delano had his desk, 
and dealing with the goods, which Mr. Delano was in- 
terested in. He began then to pay me frequent atten- 
tion. I tried all I could to avoid him, without offending 
him, for I wished to keep my place. I had heard a great 
many stories about him, and the girls at the store who 
had disappeared, and that it was fatal to any girl to 
whom he would take a liking; but I thought, as many 
women and girls do, that it was their own fault. 

“ But the fatal day came to me, the morning I accepted 
an invitation from him, to go with a party of girls from 
the store, and one of the managers, and himself, to Coney 
Island. I want to state here, gentlemen, that I did not 
know at that time that Mr. Delano was a married man. 
It seems strange with all the stories whispered about 
him, and his gallantries to young women, that it was 
never mentioned that he had a wife and family, that is, 
in my hearing.” She drew herself up, and with head 
and shoulders thrown back, her arms outstretched, her 


314 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


color coining and going, her voice like a flute echoing 
in every corner and cranny of that large courtroom, she 
told the story of that night, forcibly, dramatically. She 
described the scene the morning after in old Waite’s 
office, so graphically, that several gentlemen rose from 
their seats, and drew near to hear better, and as they 
did, they drew from their pockets their handkerchiefs, 
to wipe their eyes. 

“Yes, gentlemen,” she said, “that man, old enough 
to be my father, whom I ran from the night before to pro- 
tect my innocence, could find no other dagger to thrust 
into my young heart, than to accuse me of immoral- 
ity. The man these accusations were made to that morn- 
ing sits here in this courtroom, although having a daugh- 
ter of his own, in his callous heart, there lurks no pity 
for such as I. The four years that have passed, has not 
softened it, one iota for the poor daughters of poor men. 
At the coroner’s inquest, he told with the cold-blooded- 
ness of a clam, that I was dismissed from his establish- 
ment on the charge of immorality, knowing in his heart, 
it was false as hell. 

“ I was carried from that room in a dead swoon, by 
two women, and a man, to a room, kept for the sudden 
illness of the women employees. About four hours later, 
I had recovered sufficiently to rise and dress and steal 
out. I wandered about the streets for hours, I would 
not go home, for as the electric wire flashes thought, 
thousands of miles in a few moments, so that charge 
had been conveyed to every man and woman, in that 
establishment of nearly two thousand employees, before 
I left that room; and by the next day, to every similar 
establishment in New York City. Although in every 
one of them are hundreds of men and women, living 
immoral lives, the majority of women, forced into it, 
by just such men as Delano. And even if I got a posi- 
tion, which I doubt if I could, having the ill-will of the 
head men, I would be tabooed and ticketed, a victim of 
every man who happened to admire me. 

“ Go home, never — go home to mother, to my proud 
but poor mother. No woman, if she sat on a throne, 
could have reared me more carefully or instilled prin- 


OR, WHE-N THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 315 


ciples of ho-nesty, truth, and virtue, more than she. Go 
home to Gere, with that dagger still in my heart, that 
no hand could pull out, or stop the blood which flowed 
from its wound; for there are wounds of the soul, the 
spirit, which nothing but time and God, can heal. Go 
home to Gene, honest, manly Gene, the noble boy com- 
panion of my childhood ? Never. Gene, to think I had 
deceived him, for I had been out the night before, and 
though innocent as a babe, things and appearances were 
against me. No, with that accusation laid against me, I 
could not go home. I could not bear it ; my whole proud 
woman’s nature, revolted at the thought. Gentlemen, 
I have a quick intellect; during the hours I wandered 
about, my mind was busy, and by midnight I found my- 
self, standing in front of that same dark house, which 
the night before I would not enter with Delano. 

“ I was just passing out of my nineteenth year, but I 
was stricken old, oh, so old,” and she pressed both hands 
on her bosom, “ And there under the shining stars of 
heaven,” and she raised her arms above her head, “ I 
swore, that never would Roscoe Delano, send me to the 
street, where he had sent so many young women. While 
I knew he had done the most unprincipled things, I 
never dreamed he would resort to such base treachery. 
I knew that Delano would visit that house before morn- 
ing, and in a few moments its door had opened and 
closed upon me. I will not go over the scene between 
Delano and myself, for as the door closed upon me, it 
must close upon what transpired there, between him 
and myself, but this, I outwitted Delano. The streets 
were before m.e, the slums, the gutter. That great City, 
lying outside offered me nothing else. I was homeless, 
penniless, though innocent; I had no name, it was 
smirched, and blotted out that morning, by a black lie. 
Before I left that house, I had, under a promise, which 
has thrown its pall over my life, I had in my hand 
a check, for a large sum of money.” A great cheer, 
burst from the audience, and every man and woman, 
rose to their feet. Nina turned deadly pale, and came 
near fainting, she realized she had made a mistake. 

“ Gendemen,” she continued, recovering herself, “ you 


3i6 


Beverly osgooo ; 


misunderstand me, I am here on trial for my life. The 
newspapers, have reported all kinds of false stories about 
me; I owe the jury, and the world the truth, and they 
shall have the truth, and nothing but the truth. You 
must not think that this money, in any way, assuaged 
my suffering, the humiliation, and degradation, I had 
been subjected to. All the millions in the world, could 
not return me to my mother, and to Gene, the fair, inno- 
cent, happy girl, I was the night before. Like a rose 
stung in the bud, it may open into full leaf, and bloom, 
but the blight is there, the worm gnaws at the heart, 
and it dies, before it reaches maturity. 

“ My time here has been short, I rallied, and for a 
day, spread my wings to the sun, but like a wounded 
bird, which tries to soar again, the hurt was deadly, the 
span of my life is run. After that night, Delano and I 
were strangers, so far as any relationship existed between 
us. I deny that I ever was his mistress; he followed me 
to my flat up-town, and to all his appeals, his protesta- 
tions of love, I turned a deaf ear; I was like stone. Every 
time he came I begged and plead with him, to leave me, 
to go out of my life, and stop his persecution. All that 
time I hated him, loathed him; in my just wrath and 
righteous indignation, I could at that time, have slayed 
him in his tracks. He had a strange, unaccountable in- 
fatuation for me, and the only thing I could do, was to 
let him come and go. I hoped in time this mad passion, 
would die of starvation. 

“When I came into my long-delayed inheritance, and 
moved into my house, he followed me there. So long 
as he did not interfere with my liberty, I let him come 
and go. I offered to pay him back the money he gave 
me, if he would only leave me, and go his way, and let 
me go mine. Suffice it to say, that from the time I first 
knew him, until the night the unknown assassin struck 
him down, in my house, before my eyes, I never had felt 
more pity for him. And now I want to say to the judge 
and jury, to his wife and family, that this hand of mine,” 
and she raised it up, “never laid a straw in Roscoe 
Delano’s path, never harmed a hair of his head, never 
by word, or act, did I plan or plot to hurt him, never. 


Ok, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWARE. 317 


“ I hoped and have prayed, that a merciful and kind 
God, in His own good time, and in His own way, would 
remove him out of my life; until He did, I would bow to 
the inevitable. Gentlemen, I have told you all; I have 
spoken the truth, and nothing but the truth, and now I 
leave myself to your mercy, and justice.” A deadly 
pallor overspread her face, as she finished the last sen- 
tence. Bertram and Gene were at her side, before others 
could reach her. She held out a hand to both, and in 
the midst of great excitement, and cheering, they led 
her to a seat, where Jeanette, Madame Deveraux, Mrs. 
Marstan, her mother, and Madame Sloan, all gathered 
about her. 

Then a silence like the grave fell over the courtroom 
again, as Mrs. Delano was seen to rise ; she begged the 
ear of the Court. “ I wish to say, that so far as I am 
concerned, I would like the judge and jury, to show the 
mercy, and justice, to Miss Palermo, which she has asked 
for. I myself, withdraw all charges of her having any- 
thing to do with the killing of my husband, Delano, and 
think it unnecessary to prosecute the case farther.* The 
whole audience, judge, and jurors, rose to their feet, 
and cheer after cheer, rang out, and went up; young men, 
and old men, waved their hats, and the women their 
handkerchiefs, until the judge requested silence. When 
the people were restored to quiet, he spoke a few brief 
words to the jury. When he finished, whispers ran 
down the aisle of the twelve men, then the foreman, 
rose and said in a clear, distinct voice, “We, the jury, 
proclaim with one accord. Miss Nina Palermo, the pris- 
oner, not guilty. And we further exonerate her from 
all conspiracy, and knowledge, aforehand in the killing 
of Roscoe Delano.’* 

When the foreman finished I looked towards Nina. 
She had fainted and fallen back in her chair, in a dead 
swoon. I rose and rushed to where she sat. Immedi- 
ately Boyington, who seemed to always be in the right 
place when wanted, and as quick as a cat, when jumping 
on a mouse, ran for some stimulants, but the cheering 
of the 'audience kept up. Boyington was back in a second, 


3i8 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


and we soon brought her to. I saw then the only way 
to do, was to get her out of the stifling courtroom. 

In five minutes I was out, and back with two carriages, 
and in a little while, we were all downstairs. Nina, 
Madame Sloan, her mother. Gene, all weeping, were 
driven to Mrs. Lunis’s apartments, where first my eyes 
rested on Nina Palermo, then in all the fresh bloom of 
^^PPy> innocent girlhood. I waited to see my lady into 
her carriage, also Jeanette, her mother, and De Coute. 
It was late when Bertram and myself, after seeing 
to the ladies, and bidding good-by to Morrison Siles, 
and the other men, who were all rejoicing over the 
verdict, parted, he to follow on after he had dined with 
his mother, and sister, and De Coute. I jumped into 
a carriage and was driven to the Lunis’s apartments, 
as I knew I was one of themselves and a participator in 
their griefs an4 joys, and would be a welcome guest. 


CHAPTER V. 

I HAVE AVENGED YOU AND AVENGED MYSELF. 

Around and about Eighth Street and Washington 
Square,there are many small, narrow streets, running off 
Sixth Avenue, Seventh Avenue, and Eighth, with long, 
tall rows of tenement houses, crowded with men, women, 
and children. In about the middle of these streets, the 
rows of houses separate, leaving here, and there, small 
alleyways about the width of a door between, which 
lead to other houses, in the rear, tall, dark tenements, 
crowded with humanity. I, Beverly Osgood, will now 
carry the reader out of the small, crowded street of 

C , through one of these alleyways, to a high, old 

rickety tenement house, in the rear. 

The night is very cold, one of those January nights 
in New York City, when a fellow leaves the warmth of 
his room, and strikes the air outside, thinks that cold, 
icy fingers, clutch at his lungs, and for a second almost 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE, 319 


strangle him. S-now had laid upon the ground for four 
weeks, and the thermometer stood just at zero, sometimes 
ranging a little below. V/e will enter the door, in the 
center of this building, a dim light burns in the lower 
dingy hall, and climb up the bare narrow stairway, to 
the fifth fioor, and enter the first door in the hall, at the 
head of the stairs. The room is small, but very clean, 
its bare floor scrubbed white, with a few strips of rag 
carpet, laid here and there. One strip was spread before 
a little cook-stove, where a hard coal fire burned, giving 
out comfortable warmth. A few chairs, a washstand, 
a cupboard, a plain deal table, upon which a lamp burned, 
covered with a porcelain shade, that threw out softened 
light over the room, and over some plates, cups, and 
saucers, which stood upon it, made up its furnishing. 
A kettle steamed upon the stove, and a small teapot stood 
upon the fender. 

Upon a bed, in one corner, lay a woman dying; she 
was about thirty years of age. Had Jeanette Arlington 
stood near that bed, at the first glance of the face, she 
would have taken oath, that Mrs. Leroy Johnathan lay 
upon it, or her wraith. But had Nina stood by it, she 
would have wept, to see the handsome Nellie Thare, 
who had left the floor of the dry-goods department house 

of ^ the first year she herself came to that fatal 

establishment, and of whom there was much whispering 
about, when she went home one night, and never re- 
turned. She would have wept, to see her lying there 
such a wreck of her old beautiful self. 

Yes, in health, she v/as the image of Mrs. Leroy Johna- 
than. The same redish-gold hair, the same blue, spark- 
ling eyes, the vivacious mouth, and expressive features, 
the perfectly moulded figure, only where Mrs. Leroy 
Johnathan depended much on art for her beauty, Nellie’s 
was natural. But now disease, dissipation, baffled am- 
bition, and revenge gnawing at her heart, had done its 
work. 

The mother of the young woman, sits beside her bed ; 
she has toiled up the long road of nearly sixty years, her 
sparse, gray hair, is combed back in bands from her 
deeply seamed forehead, and sunken eyes of blue, which 


320 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


were in yotith, bright and sparkling like her daughter’s, 
but now looking like dried wells, which had no more 
tears to shed. The set mouth, the hollow, wrinkled 
cheek, curving into the strong chin. The whole face, 
resembled an image, carved from stone, with eyes, all 
alive, aflame, and burning with pain. Her large hands, 
furrowed with toil, the nails worn to the quick, are 
crossed upon her lap. Hands which have rubbed over 
the washtub, for thirty-five years, to rear and educate 
her daughter, now dying. Poor hands, how deserving 
they were of rest, poor foolish mother, how much blame 
for your disappointments, and the sorrow graven on 
your face, is not for me to say, here, but there are ten 
thousand mothers like you. 

Like most women of her kind, she had a drunken, 
brutal husband, but thanks to Providence he died, in a 
few years after the birth of the little Nellie. And at 
her^birth, there was a new joy, a new hope, and a great 
love, born in her heart. A love which Mrs. Thare car- 
ried as she stood over the washtub, day, by day, for 
years, excepting when she was doing the fine ironing, 
which made her lady customers exclaim, as they lifted 
their white starched clothes, from the basket, “ Did any 
one ever see such lovely laundered clothes ?” And as 
she worked, Nellie grew, and waxed strong in health, 
and beauty, in the mother’s eyes. Yes, Nellie should have 
a good education, and with her intelligence and beauty, 
she would some day, make a good match, and as most 
mothers of her kind do, she educated the girl far beyond 
her station in life. 

Nellie passed through the highschool, and at the age 
of seventeen, she was given a position in the large house. 
She was then like a picture, and as she grew older, there 
was a grace, and a dash, about her, with almost a perfect 
taste in dress, that attracted the admiration of all the 
women, as well as the men. Her salary was fair, and 
she had her mother rent a little flat, all to themselves, 
where they moved, Nellie taking great pains to furnish 
it, so she might have a place to receive her gentlemen 
company, and every day she grew handsomer, and gayer. 
When about twenty years old, there came a man, to visit 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 32 1 


her, whom her mother had much, and many misgiv- 
ings about. He came frequently and accompanied the 
girl out to parties, outirgs on the lakes, and theatres, 
and he lavished presents of fine jewelry and clothing 
upon her. 

She told her mother, she was engaged to marry the 
gentleman, when the old soul, with a sad, worn face, 
remonstrated with her. Still, after a while the poor 
simple mother, believed it, so did the foolish, vain girl, 
not knowing that the man had already a wife, and two 
children. The months went by, and Mrs. Thare won- 
dered at her daughter’s extravagance, but Nellie was so 
clever, and so good to her. She brought home her salary 
every week, and put the money into her hands, but there 
came a day, that Miss Thare came home, from that shop, 
pale, haggard, determined, with set mouth, and a gleam 
in her eye, which the mother never saw there before. 

She threw herself on the bed, and said she was sick; 
she laid upon that bed for a week, when one morning 
she rose and dressed herself, then told her mother the 
whole story, who the man was, who had been visiting 
her for months, that he was one of the head managers 
of the house, where she was employed, and his name 
was Roscoe Delano. The girl then went from bad to 
worse in a life of gaiety, and dissipation, the poor mother 
looking on horrified, and heartbroken at her daughter’s 
conduct. 

During these days, there was one person who brought 
a ray of hope to Mrs. Thare. A young workman, a 
plumber by trade, the son of a widow, who lived on the 
third floor of the same house, his mother and Mrs. Thare 
having been life-long friends. Austin Hartman, a boy five 
years older than Nellie, had been in love with her for 
years ; but while Nellie smiled upon him, and would chat 
with him, in her gay, light way, and allow him once in 
awhile, to take her out, she gave him no further en- 
couragement. In the meantime, Austin’s mother died, 
and Nellie began to droop. She took a severe cold which 
settled on her lungs, and the young fellow became more 
attentive to her, urging his marriage with her, so that 
he might have a better right to take care of her. 


322 


BEVERLY OSGOOD; 


But to all his entreaties she turned a deaf ear, sayirg 
she was not good enough for him, that he deserved a 
better girl than her. As her health grew worse, she 
became more quiet, and taciturn, speaking but little to 
her mother, but always pleasant and gentle. For nearly 
a year, she had but one thought, one. idea, and how to 
accomplish it ; she lived and fed upon it, until it absorbed 
her whole being. She would remain in the house all 
day, until about nine in the evening, or later, waiting 
for her mother to retire. After she was safe in bed, and 
sound asleep, she would then rise, wrap herself in a 
long dark waterproof cloak, drawing the hood up over 
her head, and face, and steal out. I think Austin had 
been partially led into the secret, but never dreamed of 
its finale. For three years, she had hunted and tracked 
Roscoe Delano, until she located him, at the Countess’s 
house, on West 8o — S — Street, which was about a year 
before the shooting. 

Here she watched for him, and learned that he came 
every night, at about the same hour. Not wishing to 
attract the attention of the night watchman, she had to 
keep moving, and often missed her opportunity by a 
hair’s breadth. As her health declined, and she grew 
weaker, she made up her mind regardless of consequences 
to do her work, and so it happened on the night of Nina’s 
first ‘ At Home,’ of the season. The girl, doing her own 
detective work, knew when Nina left home, and when 
she returned. She knew Nina, and some of her story, 
she knew that Nina was to have company on this even- 
ing, and she made up her mind to kill Delano, either 
before he entered the house, or she would follow him 
up the steps, and do her deadly work on the threshold. 
She had tracked him to the house, but he reached the 
door too quickly, and seeing that her aim was not good^ 
she paused a second, on the lower stone step. Observ- 
ing that he did not close the front door after him, quick 
as a cat, and with steps stealthy as a panther’s, she was 
up and in the door, and concealed behind one of the 
hangings, in the drawing-room. Intent and bent upon 
one object, she watched every move of Delano’s until 
he rose to drink the company’s health, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 323 


She had leaned over to take deadly aim, when the 
portiere brushed aside the hood of her cloak; then it was 
that De Conte caught a glimpse of her profile. She saw 
that she was detected by him, and for an instant her 
hand trembled, misdirecting the first shot, but quick as 
lightning, the other two were levelled straight, and with 
determined, deadly aim, at the heart of Roscoe Delano. 
No bird could have flown out of that house, and down 
the steps, quicker, or more noiselessly, than she. When 
she reached^her room, she awakened her mother. ‘ ‘ Thank 
God, mother, the thing is done,” she said in a stifled 
voice, “ I have rid the earth of a villain, a libertine, 
a monster, the destroyer and slayer of innocent young 
girls, and now I am willing to give up my life for it. 
Rise, mother, go to Austin’s room, and call him, tell him 
to come quickly here to me, I have something to give 
him.” 

“ Oh, dear, dear, Nellie, what ha’ ye ben a-doin’? Oh, 
my girlie, my daughter, me dear, ye ha sure mad.” 

“Go mother, quickly, I want to lie down, I am very 
ill.” 

Mrs. Thare rose and obeyed her daughter, mechanic- 
ally, and went to the young man’s room, and called him. 
He rose and came at her summons. 

“ Take this Austin, destroy it,” said the young woman, 
handing him a pistol, “ you are avenged, I am avenged. 
Like Charlotte Corday did with ‘ Muarat,’ I have rid 
the earth of a monster. A great weight has been lifted 
from me, I can now die in rest and peace.” 

And from that night on, until this January evening, 
when we find her dying, Nellie Thare never rose from 
her bed. Austin Hartman asked her no questions, he 
understood all; he carried the pistol to his room, and 
locked it in an old German trunk of his father’s, and from 
that night, until this, he never slackened in his attentions 
to the dying woman, and her mother. 

The rent was paid by him, and everything she and 
her mother had to eat, and drink, and keep warm by, was 
furnished by him. And as he sat by her bedside of even- 
ings, when he returned from work, holding her hand, 
he knew then, she was all his, if not in life, at least iu 


3^4 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


death. And they were the happiest moments he knew 
and perhaps the most peaceful to the young woman. 

“What is it, Nellie, dear,” and Mrs. Thare bent over 
and laid her ear closer to the lips of her daughter, to 
hear better. 

“ What time is it ?” 

“ It’s early yet, dear, Austin will be here soon, here 
he is now.” Nellie raises her large, sunken blue eyes, and 
smiles faintly, as Austin enters the door, and walks on 
tiptoe to her bedside. She reaches out her thin, wasted 
hand, and gropes for something in the bed. “ Here’s the 
letter, Austin, you will take it to the gentleman, after I 
am gone, so that he will know — you understand. He 
took me for some other woman, that night, in the trial 
he stated this woman was well known to him, an old 
acquaintance of his. You will give him the letter, and 
bring him here after I am dead, so that she will not be 
blamed, and perhaps suffer for my act.” 

“ Every wish of yours will be carried out by me, dear,” 
and the young man, bent over her, and took her hand 
in his. 

“ And you will care a little for mother, Austin, when 
I am laid to rest; I’m sure you will, you have been so 
true, so faithful, and good to both mother and myself. 
Poor mother, I have been a bad disobedient daughter, 
and have broken your heart. Forgive me, mother, for- 
give me, Austin dear. Did Mr. Archer say he would 
come again this evening to pray with me ?” 

“Yes, dear Nellie.” 

“ Turn me over, mother, mother dear, on my side.” 

Mother and son, for the young man had acted the part 
of a son to her, they turned her upon her side, and thus 
the handsome Nellie Thare, the slayer of Roscoe Delano, 
died. 

And Austin Hartman carried the letter written by 
himself, at the dictation of Nellie, and signed by her, to 
De Coute, and brought him to the room to view the 
remains. As he turned away, he said to her mother, 
that she was the image of the woman he supposed fired 
the shot, but far more beautiful. 

That same evening, Mr. and Mrs, Leroy Johnathan, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 32$ 


arrived in Paris, France; after a few days, they settled 
themselves in elegant apartments in the suburbs. It 
had been found on looking over the books of the firm of 
which Bertram’s father was the principal owner of all 
the stocks, bonds, and other investments, that Mr. Leroy 
Johnathan had been appropriating the money of the 
firm, for four years. On the day he sailed for Paris, he 
drew from the bank a hundred thousand dollars in cash, 
it was not discovered until he was safe on Gallic shores. 


CHAPTER VI. 

DEAREST, DEAREST, I LOVE YOU. 

I lingered on in New York, through the winter, unde- 
cided whether to take up my abode permanently in the 
city or not. Still I was not idle, I read much, and did 
considerable reportorial work, besides my weekly con- 
tribution to the Sunday Bugle. I was passing 
through a school, in which I was laying up a mental 
store for future use. I also visited the Lunis’s two or 
three times a week, but generally in the evenings. 

After Nina’s release from prison, she was very ill, five 
or six weeks, she had a slow intermittent fever, which 
seemed to baffle her physician for a time in breaking. 
He called it a prison fever. The second floor above Mrs. 
Lunis happened to be vacated during the trial, Mrs. 
Lunis, thought it a good plan to rent these apartments, 
for the present, as her quarters were too small for the 
addition to her family, they would be just what Nina 
would need. Madame Sloan could then have her room, 
near Nina, Madame Sloan and Gene, went to the big 
house on West 80 — S. — Street, and selected a few rugs, 
portieres, a few pictures, bric-a-brac, and also furniture 
suitable for the rooms, and made her as comfortable as 
possible, until she would recover her health. And in 


326 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


the interim Gene, and Bertram, would be looking about 
for a suitable place to purchase. Besides it was very 
cold and they could not think of moving until spring, 
until Nina had fully recovered. 

The joy and delight of Gene, his mother, and Madame 
Sloan, at having her free, and restored to them again, 
knew no bounds, this with the relief that the man, who had 
been the nightmare of her and their lives, was removed 
forever from the earth, the hope born of a new future, 
gladdened their hearts. Yes she was young, strong, 
both in body and in mind, and she would soon be well 
again. And of winter evenings, as -she lay in the little 
parlor, upon her couch, with its drapery, and pillows, of 
rich Oriental stuffs, her long white wool gown, her dark 
hair, combed back from her blue-veined brow, the large 
dark eyes, shining, with the light, of the deeper myste- 
ries of the soul, revealed to those who have drank of the 
bitter cup. Her face sweeter in its sadness, in that 
something indefinable, which can be known and felt, 
but which is beyond words to explain as she smiled 
and chatted with Gene, Bertram, Madame Sloan, her 
mother, and myself, sitting about her couch, while the 
fire burned brightly in the grate ; and we all came to love 
her more than ever before. Emma Cowen often 
dropped in for half an hour or so, and enlivened us with 
her sparkling original shop talk. “ You have found I 
was right Mr. Osgood,” she said, one evening after the 
trial, “ I told you that the beautiful Countess Palermo, 
was none other than Nina Palermo.” She gave a ring- 
ing laugh, and took a graceful pose. She was one of 
those willowy women, who could not be awkward if 
she tried. 

Bertram came every evening, the scenes of the past 
six months, and his faithful and constant attention to 
Nina, his tireless devotion in her behalf during her im- 
prisonment and trial, had changed the whole man, into 
another being. There was an expression of relief upon 
his face, something which had oppressed him, which I 
observed the day 1 first called upon him, in his office, 
after four years, had fallen away. And in its place a 
light, of expectancy, of happiness to be, shone in his 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 327 


eyes ; a hope long deferred, now to be realized of a life 
with her he loved so dearly so well ; a great love, which 
he had proved to the letter. A love which made him 
brave public opinion, his father’s black frowns, his 
mother’s cold face, and colder words, as he stood before 
them straight and tall, one morning in the library at 
Anlace. It was the day before the trial, he had come 
down from New York, not satisfied with his sister 
Jeanette’s kindness to Nina, to beg his father and mother 
to show themselves at the court, to help him, and help a 
wronged and innocent girl, who on the morrow was to 
be tried for her life. 

“ Surely my son, my only .son, you are not going to 
marry this Countess, who the whole country is talking 
about, accused of a terrible crime, of murder, whether 
guilty or not guilty,” he raised his hand up to silence her, 
then folded his arms, across his breast. 

“ She is not guilty mother,” he replied with a pale 
face, and in a voice, stern and cold as her own, “ all I 
ask is that you, and father, will suspend judgment, until 
after the trial, and let her see that you are her friends. 
But no matter what the verdict may be, I shall never 
marry any other woman but the Countess Palermo.” 
He turned away and left them standing in the room. 

He looked upon her lingering convalescence as a 
natural result of what she had passed through, in the 
last five years, until the denouement of the drama in the 
tragedy. Like Hamlet’s ghost, Delano haunted the girl, 
and she could find no hiding place from him, until the 
awful shooting down of the man, before her eyes. The 
suspicion of his killing, falling like a black pall over her, 
her months in prison, and the trial for her life, all had 
its effect upon her nerves, and fine-strung organization. 

Just as soon as her nerves grew strong, which would 
take time, she would be all right. Then he would show 
the world that Delano’s death with all its attendant 
scandal had no weight with him. He would marry her 
any day she was ready, any moment she would say, and 
in the warmth of his love and devotion she would grow 
strong, and be her own proud, queenly self again. And 
day in and day out he longed for the hour to come, when 


328 


BEVERLY OSGOOD ; 


he made his way to the tenement house on 20 — F — 
Street, and there every evening he was found seated by 
her couch, after unfolding the box of fresh fruit or hot- 
house flowers which he carried under his arm. 

It was always a box of something, until one evening he 
stood unwrapping the tin foil from about the rare roses, 
and she looked up and smiled in his face, and called him 
her Santa Claus It was a smile which told him some- 
thing which he had guessed, but did not dare to hope 
^was true. Then in about an hour Gene, Madame Sloan, 
her mother would gather in the parlor for the evening. 
There had grown up a friendship between Gene and Ber- 
tram, born of that higher love, which should be right- 
fully man's, for it is his inheritance, for both men loved 
the woman who lay for a while upon the shore of the 
border land, whose rivers and mountains we must climb 
to the gates of gold, and Gene with a brave spirit said 
one day to his mother, “ If she is only spared to us 
mother, I will willingly give her to Mr. Arlington; I 
shall be happy just to love her and you, mother." 

Some evenings Chester Harding called and sat an hour 
or so with her, and she enjoyed his visit greatly, and so 
did Morrison Siles, and nothing could exceed his gentle- 
ness, and kindness, his fatherly feeling, and love for her, 
which was mixed with great delicacy. He would sit be- 
side her couch and say, “ It was beastly weather, but 
when the spring came she would grow strong. Of course 
they would have to get her out in the fresh air, among 
the trees and flowers, and where she would have a sweep 
of the blue sky, and the purple hills, then she would pick 
up fast. 

“ In the meantime she must forget the past. Why my 
dear child," he said, taking the hand that lay on the 
couch in his own two, “ the whole miserable affair of 
Delano's death will be all forgotten in a year." She 
would smile, and speak of something else. He would 
spend two or three hours with her, talking of different 
things, the latest paintings, and books, and what he him- 
self was doing, and in his grave way which had a charm- 
ing touch of humor he would relate to her some of the 
happenings and gossip of the art and social world, and I 


OR, WHEN tHE GREAT CltV IS AWAKE. 


would often drop in and find him there, and later the 
family would gather in, and we would spend a charming 
evening. Frank Boyington did not forget her, he called 
once or twice during the winter so did Chauncey Willis. 
Oswald de Coute came to bring the story of Nellie Thare. 
He had her letter published in all the morning papers, 
which forever set at rest the question of the slayer of 
Roscoe Delano. Nina said she felt all along it was some 
one of his many victims who did the deed. 

Like Madam Recamier reduced to poverty, when she 
moved into her little chateau in the suburbs of Paris, her 
salon of statesmen, noblemen, litterateurs, journalists, and 
artists, followed her to her humble home. So did Nina’s 
court follow her to her apartments in the tenement 
house. Jeanette De Coute came up from Malmarda to 
New York once a week and spent nearly the whole day 
taking lunch, which Mrs. Lunis served in the little par- 
lor. And not a day passed but'my Lady came in the after- 
noon and remained one or two hours, and Nina, as she 
lay on her couch, and listened to my Lady, her eyes grew 
wider, and larger, and she drank deeply of the living 
water of my Lady’s words, the philosophy that Christ 
taught and proved by His miracles, that spirit, and not 
matter, is life, force, and power, and the only real power. 
They opened up a new realm of thought to Nina, and her 
intellect taught her understanding, and her understand- 
ing grasped their meaning, and the Holy Spirit touched 
her soul, and it drank in the light, and soared to heights 
unknown to her before, and these were the sweetest, 
happiest moments Nina ever knew. 

Toward the close of March the Lunis’s moved into 
their twelve room cottage; it was a beautiful picturesque 
house and place, right at the edge of Audubon Park over- 
looking the Hudson. It stood to the right about a hun- 
dred paces from my Lady’s mansion, and had about an 
acre of ground about it for lawn, yard, bam, and out- 
buildings. All the furniture of the great house on West 
8o — S. — Street, including paintings, books, bric-a-brac, 
musical instruments, was moved. Madam Sloan, Gene, 
and his mother, seeing to the packing and attending to 
the moving, Emma Co wen, who was given a two weeks 


330 


BEVERLY OSGOOt) } 


vacation before the spring work began, felt that she 
would like to spend it with Nina; she was just in time, 
and to be all alone with her was the acme of bliss to her, 
she had so much to say to her, but while they had de- 
lightful chats together, Mrs. Lunis had warned her that 
the doctor had forbidden any reference to Delano or his 
death, or the after scenes. Emma was faithful to the 
trust reposed in her, and if Nina did happen to refer to 
anything, she turned the subject. Emma was in every 
sense equal to her post, her’s was a temperament which 
shook its shoulders at the sad side of life and passed on 
to the lighter and brighter events. 

So by the way of cheering her patient up as she said, 
she called in her friend John Jacob Astor, Slim Pete. 
Every day after Jacob ate his dinner, he would bring his 
tray of candy, and of course John Jacob had to go over 
his song. The little fellow would touch the bell of the 
parlor door on the second floor, as gentle as a mouse, and 
when Emma opened it to him, off would go the hat onto 
the floor. The hat was now an old slouched cap, he 
would take two or three tiptoe slides to Nina’s couch, 
hold out his tray of candy, and begin his song in a boyish 
tenor, that promised a fortune in the future, if ever he 
were lucky enough to find some maestro to educate it. 

“ Fresh car-amels — car-amels — nice car-amels — cent a 
— piece cent — a — piece.” The first day Emma had him 
pay a visit to Nina, the boy was so bewildered by the 
beautiful young woman l3dng on the couch, and to him, 
her luxurious surroundings, that he blushed to the roots 
of his hair; and when he finished his song, and she 
smiled upon him, and asked Emma to hand her her 
purse, his gallantry got the better of his love for pennies, 
and he blurted out : “ I didn’t sing, for her to buy, I 
sing to make tose men, and tose women, dat sits round in 
parks, tose buy, I sings fer yere to get better. Mrs. 
Lunis gives me lots of good tings toa eat an’ she wants 
yere toa get better.” 

“ Oh, but I like caramels, Jacob, they are a favorite 
candy of mine, and Nina like myself, bought his whole 
tray full. Jacob turned to her in his excitement — 

“ I’ll come agin an’ sing for you, but you needn’t buy, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 33 1 


no yere needn’t ” And the little fellow shook his head 
earnestly, turned, and as quick as a wink, was out of the 
room, and upstairs to his mother, to tell her all about 
the lovely sick lady, Mrs. Lunis’s daughter, on the second 
floor. 

When the house was ready Nina was carried to her 
new home, it was then drawing toward the first of May. 
She had her lounge carried to the wide porch, which 
faced the east, and overlooked the Hudson. Here as the 
spring advanced, and the lawn became a carpet of green, 
and the great trees, budded into bloom, the rosemary 
hedges sent forth their young shoots, and perfume to the 
winds, and the banks of the Hudson caught opal tints 
from the sky. She would lie or sit in her chair of morn- 
ings, reading or listening to the birds caroling, and often 
she would drop her book to watch them flying from tree 
to tree, and hedge to hedge, with their mouths full of 
straws and feathers, or other material to build their 
nests. She came to love nature in these weeks, and 
found it a book, full of new and wonderful revelations. 

“ How much we miss, when we live in the gay mad 
world, of what we call society, where we simply exist to 
eat, drink, and sleep ; and the chase after what the peo- 
ple call pleasure,” she said, one afternoon to Bertram, as 
he sat by her side. It was drawing toward six in the 
evening, he had come early, about four in the afternoon, 
as he did now every day, dining with them and not leav- 
ing until late. 

“ Yes indeed Nina, but it’s so hard to make the world 
believe in its madness, or turn it for a moment from its 
own self-seeking folly. He bent over her. “ There was 
a time,” he continued, placing his arm about her neck, 
“ that I was like other men of my age, and order, that I 
looked upon women, as other men did, and my love, for 
them was as other men’s love, a selfish carnal passion, 
and that the woman, I rested my eyes in fancy upon, and 
desired, was made for my gratification. 

“ But since I have known and loved you, I am a 
changed man. Nina when first I met you, I loved the 
winecup, I was carnal-minded, passionate, and thought 
in a moderate way, it was my privilege to enjoy these. 


i 


332 BEVERLY OSGOOt) } 

I was a sensualist, not in the same degree that Delano 
was. There is honor, you know among thieves, manly 
men, and gentlemen, have a high code of honor. But I 
know now, there is a love, so unlike the love I had for 
you at first, so far beyond it, in its depths, heights, and 
purity, that I never dreamed it could exist in the heart 
of man.** He bent over her and drew her closer to his 
breast. “ You will soon be well and strong now, turn 
your thoughts away, from the past Nina, and live for 
me. Anything I can do to make you well and happy, 
command me, and I will obey. We are both young and 
possessed of all that goes to make life worth living, live 
Nina, live for my sake.** 

“ Dearest, dearest, I love you,** she raised up, laid her 
head upon his shoulder, and wound her arm about his 
neck. “ I love you, Bertram,** she whispered, “ love you 
with the love we have been speaking of. A love whose 
heights and depths no Tman or woman can know, only 
those who like us, came up through great tribulation. I 
have never loved any man but you Bertram. Hove Gene, 
but it is not the love I bear you; I tell you this so you 
will understand.** He bent over her, kissed her lips, her 
brow, her eyes. 

“ Now dearest,** she went on, “ if I live and marry you, 
no matter where we go, we shall hear the tragedy of 
Delano repeated and whispered in our hearing as we pass 
by. Our children will be told that their mother was in 
prison, and accused of being his slayer. Do you think 
you love me sufficient to bear this in the coming future 
years with me? If not, you will be happier for having 
known me and my story, for having loved and lost me. 
Bertram, when I grow strong, the woman, perhaps that 
you love, the young Countess Palermo, will have died, 
and there will be born a new woman into new life and 
strength. She will' turn her back on all former things 
that she used to care for and was ambitious for before, 
and have now perished with the woman who died. Ber- 
tram do you think you can love this woman as you did 
the former, for another voice calls me, and unless you are 
willing to follow, you will be unhappy with her.** 

“ Nina, Nina, my love, my life, my wife, I love you. 


Or, when the great city is awake. 333 


You are all mine now, and where you lead I will follow, 
if you will but help me.” He drew her closer to his 
breast, and kissed her again and again. Her head rested 
on his shoulder, while the day declined, the sun drooped 
low in the West, and goldened the violet haze upon the 
hills. The trees stirred by the fragrant May winds, sang 
gentle lullabys above their heads, and shook their scented 
blossoms on her couch. The shadows lengthened, and 
the birds carroled their evening hymn and sealed love’s 
compact. 

I must now take the privilege of a seer; perhaps the 
reader will ask me what of Clarise; I suppose I shall 
have to let you into my secret. I have been correspond- 
ing with her ever since I left New York, nearly five years 
past, and she long ago has guessed what I have been so 
reluctant to talk of in these pages, she knows that my 
first romantic love for her, has been the sweetest mem- 
ory, the one song that has kept my heart fresh and green, 
and Clarise responds, but its consumation is in the future. 
Nina and Bertram were married quietly one day early in 
June, a few hours later they took the steamer for Europe, 
where they remained a year, when they returned the great 
house on 80 — S. — Street was sold, and the proceeds 
went to buy an estate in the country, which she and my 
Lady turned into a home for women and children. 

Every summer the Countess spends a fewl months at 
Anlace, the rest of the year she lives in her own house 
in the Park, having bought a lovely six-room cottage for 
her mother and Gene, a little farther out, and with more 
ground about it. Here Gene and his mother live, 
Madame Sloan spending much of her time between Mrs. 
Lunis and the Countess. I see Gene employed by Ber- 
tram’s father, and climbing upward and on, until he 
comes to be the big real-estate owner, that Nina and he 
used to dream of, when they were boy and girl. But 
Gene is one of the salt of the earth, he is a true work- 
man, a socialist, in its highest sense. He believes no 
man ought to eat, unless he labors, labors with his hands. 
That there should always be plenty of work for men to 
do, that it is not true, that over-production is the cause 
of so many idle men. If men do not earn wages, they 


334 


BEVERLY OSGOOD { 


cannot buy food, and clothing, therefore cannot consume 
so much. That a man is better than a machine, that 
the earth is his, God-given to him, and he has a right 
to live in it, and if any man, or iDody of men, try to 
deprive him of that right, he must fight to maintain it. 
Using the great Earl of Warwick’s words to Margaret 
of Anjou, “ Rights are but a mockery and a laughter, 
if they do not justify resistance, whenever and by whom- 
soever they are invaded and assailed.” That any inven- 
tion of machinery, which goes to enrich the few, and 
degrade, impoverish, and starve the many, is not a 
benefit to mankind, but a curse, therefore should be 
thrown out of the market, as useless. That man was 
created to live by his craft, and handiwork, and that he 
is only dignified and ennobled by labor. Carlyle, in his 
“ Past and Present,” says in his chapter on “ Manchester 
Insurrections,” “The human brain, looking on those 
sleek, well-fed English horses, refuses to believe such an 
impossibility for Englishmen.” The same can be applied 
to Americans. This is what Gene believes, and he car- 
ries it out in his carpenter shop, on his mothers’ cottage 
grounds, where he works two or three hours every day. 
He carves and fashions beautiful things with his carpenter 
tools, to decorate the interior of houses, whose building 
he superintends. 

Every week Nina throws open her house to men of 
letters, scientists, artists, and ministers of the gospel; all 
those engaged in helping and leading the human family, 
to a better and more profitable life. But the sweetest 
evenings of all tome, are when my Lady, Nina, Mrs. Mar- 
stan, myself, and a few others, Bertram now included, 
also Morrison Siles, who are seekers,'gather in my Lady’s 
library, to talk of the higher life, and seek to propound 
the beautiful Christian philosophy, the wonderful truths 
which the Saviour taught to men. And Nina is an apt 
pupil, and a strong ally of my Lady. She whispered to 
me the other night, that she never knew what it was to 
live before, that the old Nina had died, her old self, and 
a new Nina had risen out of the ashes, and she felt as 
if she could scale the heavens. 

But the happiest nights of all, are when my Lady, Nina, 


OR, WHEN THE GREAT CITY IS AWAKE. 335 

Mrs. Marstan, Gene, and myself, visit the slums, prisons, 
police-stations, and the wretched dens of vice and pov- 
erty, and as we walk along the lighted streets, and pick 
up here and there a stray waif, homeless and shivering 
in the cold. The girls and boys, we send to the Home 
in the country, the women, to the one in the city; here 
f they will have a clean bed, and breakfast free. And 
Nina, Countess Palermo, whispers to me, “ Beverly, I 
am coming to understand a little of Madame Deveraux’s 
power, for this life is power. When we feed the hungry, 
clothe the naked, and shelter the homeless, why we, if 
pure enough, can put the earth under our feet, and hold 
the planets, in the hollow of our hand.'* 

And I whisper back, “ He that belie veth on me, the 
works that I do shall he do also; and greater works than 
these shall he do ; because I go unto my Father." John, 
chapter XIV, verse, 12. 


THE END. 


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Gretchen. 

Daisy Thornton. 
Mildred. 

Marguerite. 

Paul Ralston (New), 


AUGUSTA J. EVANS’ 

MAGNIFICENT NOVELS. 

“Who has not read with rare delight the novels of Augusta Evans? Her strange, 
wonderful, and fascinating style; the profound depths to which she sinks the probe into 
human nature, touching its most sacred chords and springs ; the intense interest thrown 
around her characters, and the very marked peculiarities of her principal figures, conspire 
to give an unusual interest to the works of this eminent Southern authoress.” 

Macaria, $1.75 Beulah, $1.75 St. Elmo, $2.00 Vashti, $2.00 

Inez, $1.75 Infelice, $2.00 At the Mercy of Tiberius, $2.00 (New). 


MARION HARLAND’S 

SPLENDID NOVELS. 


** Marion H arland understands the art of constructing a plot which will gain the atten- 
tion of the reader at the beginning, and keep up the interest to the last page.” 


Alone. 

Hidden Path. 
I Moss Side. 
Nemesis. 


Miriam. Phemie’s Temptation. 

Sunny Bank* My Little Love. 

Ruby’s Husband. The Empty Heart. 

At Last. From My Youth Up. 

Price $1.50 per Vol. 


Helen Gardner. 
Husbands and Homes. 
Jessamine. 

True as Steel. 


MAY AGNES FLEMING’S 

POPULAR NOVELS. 


I 

I 


“ Mrs. Fleming’s stories are growing more and more popular every day. Their life- 
like conversations, flashes of wit, constantly varying scenes, and deeply interesting plots 
combine to place their author in the very first rank of Modern Novelists. 


A Wonderful Woman. 
One Night’s Mystery. 
Guy Earlscourt’s Wife. 
The Actress’ Daughter, 
The Queen of tiie Isle. 
Edith Percival. 


A Changed Heart. Kate Danton. Pride and Passion. 
Silent and True. A Terrible Secret. A Wronged Wife. 

Sharing Her Crime. Carried by Storm. A Wife’s Tragedy, 
Maude Percy’s Secret. Heir of Charlton. Lost for a Woman, 
The Midnight Queen. A Mad Marriage, Norine’s Revenge, 
Wedded for Pique. A Fateful Abduction (New), 

Price $1.50 per Vol. 


AH the books on this list are handsomely printed and bound in cloth, sold 
everywhere, and by mail, postage free, on receipt of price by 

G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers, 

I 1 9 & 1 2 1 West 23 cl Street, New York, 


JULIE P. SMITH’S NOVELS. 

” The novels by this author are of unusual merit, uncommonly well written, clever, 
and characterized by great wit and vivacity. They are growing popular and more populai 
every day," 

Widow Goldsmith’s Daughter. Chris and Otho. Ten Old Maids. The Widower. 

Courting and Farming. The Married Belle. Blossom Bud. Lucy. 

Kiss and be Friends. His Young Wife. 

Price $1.50 per Vol, 

ALBERT ROSS’ NOVELS. 

New Cloth Bound Editions, 


** There is a great difference between the productions of ^ Albert Ross and those of 
some of the sensational writers of recent date. When he depicts vice he does it with an 
artistic touch, but he never makes it attractive. Mr. Ross* dramatic instincts are strong. 
His characters become in his hands living, moving creatures.** 


Thy Neighbor’s Wife. Young Miss Giddy. Why I’m Single. 
Her Husband’s Friend. Speaking of Ellen. Love at Seventy, 
The Garston Bigamy. Moulding a Maiden. Thou Shalt Not. 
His Private Character. In Stella's Shadow. A Black Adonis. 
Young Fawcett’s Mabel. Their Marriage Bond. (New). 

Price $1.00 per Vol. 


An Original Sinner. 
Out of Wedlock. 
Love Gone Astray, 
His Foster Sister. 


JOHN ESTEN COOKE’S WORKS. 

•* The thrilling historic stories of John Esten Cooke must be classed among the best 
and most popular of all American writers. The great contest between the States was the 
theme he chose for his Historic Romances. Following until the close of the war the for- 
tunes of Stuart, Ashby, Jackson, and Lee, he returned to “ Eagle’s Nest,** his old home, 
where, in the quiet of peace, he wrote volume after volume, intense in dramatic interest.*’ 


Surry of Eagle’s Nest. 
Leather and Silk. ^ 
Hammer and Rapier. 
Col. Ross of Piedmont. 


Fairfax. Hilt to Hilt. Beatrice Hallam. 

Miss Bonnybel. Out of the Foam, Mohun. 

Captain Ralph. Stonewell Jackson. Robert £. Lee 
Her Majesty the Queen. 

Price $1.50 per Vol. 


CELIA E. GARDNER’S NOVELS. 


** Miss Gardner’s works are becoming more and more popular every year, and the; 
will continue to be popular long after many of our present favorite writers are forgotten.' 


Stolen Waters. (In verse). 
Broken Dreams. Do. 

Compensation. Do, 

A Twisted Skein. Do. 
Tested. 


Rich Medway. 

A Woman’s Wiles. 

Terrace Roses. 

Seraph — or Mcu'tal ? 

Won Under Protest. (New). 
Price $1.50 per Vol. 


CAPTAIN MAYNE REID’S WORKS. 


** Captain Mayne Reid’s works are of an intensely interesting and fascinating charactep. 
Nearly all of them being founded upon some historical event, they possess a permanent 
value while presenting a thrilling, earnest, dashing fiction surpassed by no novel of the day.” 


The Scalp Hunters. 
The War TraiL 
The Maroon. 

The Tiger Hunter. 
Osceola, the Seminole. 
Lost Lenore. 


The Rifle Rangers. 

The Wood Rangers. 

The Rangers and Regulators. 
The Hunter’s Feast, 

The Quadroon. 

Price $1.50 per Vol. 


The Headless Horseman. 
The Wild Huntress. 

The White Chief. 

Wild Life. 

The White Gauntlet. 


All the books on this list are handsomely printed and bound in cloth, sold 
everywhere, and by mail, postage free, on receipt of price by 



G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers, 

1 1 9 & 121 West 23d Street, New York. 











